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WOMAN    AND   HER   ERA. 


BY     ELIZA     W.     FARNHAM 


Every  book  of  knowledge  known  to  Oosaua  or  Vreehaspatee  is  by  natnre  implanted  in  the  understandings  0/ 
Women Vishnu  Siihx 

I  pray  toe,  O  gracious  Captain,  save  and  protect  these  good  women,  for  had  we  been  deprived  of  their  excellent 
wisdom,  and  the  manly  purpose  they  do  inspire  us  withal,  God  only  knoweth  in  what  sea  of  greed,  lust  and  bruti.h 
appetite,  we  had  long  ago  been  swamped.— Medieval  Hero. 

Women  are  both  clearer  in  intellect  and  more  generous  in  affection  than  men.  They  love  Trnth  more  because  they 
know  her  better,  aDd  trust  Humanity  in  a  diviner  spirit,  because  they  find  more  that  is  divine  in  it.—  Modekji 
ClvtLiziTIOI. 


I  n    %  fo  0    Volumes 

VOL.    1. 


gefa   gork: 
A.    J.     DAVIS     &     CO 

274    CANAL    STREET. 
18G4. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1S64, 

BY    MRS.    ELIZA    W.    FARNHAM, 

Id  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  Southern  District  of  New  York. 


HERALD  OF  PROGRESS"  PRINT, 
274  Canal  St.,  New  York. 


I3L06 
v.  / 


DEDICATION. 


TO    THE    FEW    BELOVED    FRIENDS, 
WOMEN, 

ON    DOTH    SHORES    OF  THE     CONTINENT,    WHOSE    FIRESIDES     HAVE   AFFORDED   ME   THE 

REST    AND    PEACE    OF    HOME,    FOR   THE    EXECUTION    OF    THIS   WORK  J   WHOSE 

APPRECIATIVE   SYMPATHY  HAS     GIVEN   ME     BOTH    LIGHT   AND 

COURAGE     FOR     ITS     DIFFICULTIES  :     AND     TO 


WOMAN 


WHOSE   GIFTS   AND   RESPONSIBILITIES  IT  SEEKS   TO    SET    FORTH  J    WHOSE   EARNESTNESS 

IT     AIMS     TO     KINDLE     INTO     DIVINE,     UNITARY     CO-WORKING     FOR     THE 

BLESSING    OF     HUMANITY  ;   WHOSE   CONSCIOUSNESS  IT   ASPIRES 

TO     INFORM    OF    TRUTHS    HERETOFORE    HIDDEN, 

THIS  BOOK  IS 
AFFECTIONATELY     DEDICATED 

BY     THE     AUTHOR. 


JTer  shape  arises  ! 

She,  less  guarded  than  ever,  yet  more  guarded  than 


Q^he  gross  and  soiled  she  moves  among  do  not  ma~kt 
her  gross  and  soiled, 

She  knows  the  thoughts  as  she  passes — nothing  is 
concealed  from  her, 

She  is  none  the  less  considerate  or  friendly  there- 
fore ; 

She  is  the  test  beloved — it  is  without  exception — 
she  has  no  reason  to  fear  and  she  does  not  fear, 

Oaths,  quarrels,  hiccupped  songs,  proposals,  ribald 
expressions,  are  idle  to  her  as  she  passes, 

She  is  silent — she  is  possessed  of  herself — they  do 
not  offend  her, 

She  receives  them  as  the   laws  of  nature  receives 
them — she  is  strong, 

She  too  is  a  law  of  nature — there  is  no  law  stronger 
than  she  is. 


PREFACE 


Nearly  twenty-two  years  have  elapsed  since  the  Truth 
which  is  the  burthen  of  the  following  pages,  first  took  pos- 
session of  my  mind.  It  has  ever  since  held  its  place 
unwaveringly,  there.  No  conflict  of  theory  or  purpose,  with 
regard  to  Woman's  nature,  the  greatness  of  her  responsi- 
bility, or  the  moral  magnificence  of  her  destiny,  has  ever 
been  possible  to  me  since  that  day.  Hence,  I  have  never 
been  able  to  co-operate  with  any  party  on  the  Woman 
Question,  and  have  constantly,  therefore,  been  exposed,  by 
its  stringency  among  us,  to  the  disadvantages  one  always 
suffers  who  is  a  sympathetic,  yet  dissenting  spectator  of  any 
earnest  movement.  It  is  impossible  to  escape  the  reproaches 
either  of  its  opponents  or  its  advocates.  None  more  than  I, 
has  respected  the  effort  for  Woman,  wherever  made,  and 
on  whatever  theoretic  basis.  That  it  has  seemed  to  me,  as 
conveyed  in  its  most  current  nomenclature,  of  Woman's 
Rights,  erroneous  in  philosophy,  and  in  many  practical 
matters,  partially  mistaken  in  direction,  has  not  prevented 
my  just  appreciation  of  its  value  to  society,  or  of  the  courage 
and  faithfulness  of  those  conducting  it.  I  will  yield  to  none 
in  grateful  admiration  of  those  pioneer  struggles  whose 
fruits  we  are  now  enjoying,  in  the  partial  emancipation  of 


Vl  PREFACE. 

Women  from  the  legal  and  social  disabilities  under  which 
the  sex  has  labored  from  the  beginning.  If  the  wife  of  the 
dissolute  husband  can  hold  in  her  own  right,  the  means  of 
saving  her  children  from  starvation  and  ignorance  ;  if  the 
ranks  of  self-supporting  Women  find  new  and  more  remu- 
nerative fields  open  to  them ;  if  the  Wronged  Woman 
breathes  a  more  human  atmosphere  of  compassion,  tender- 
ness, and  respect — healers,  all,  of  the  hurt  she  has  suffered; 
if  the  Society  of  our  day  realizes,  in  its  high  need,  the  more 
fluent  power  of  Woman  to  purify,  inspire,  and  uplift  it  to 
higher  motives  and  better  regulated  action ;  if  the  diviner 
tenderness  of  the  feminine  life  is  taking  more  distinct  forms 
of  potentiality  over  the  selfishness  and  ferocity  of  former 
ages,  we  have  to  thank,  more  than  any  other  party  or 
organization,  the  brave  Women  of  our  generation  who  have 
persistently  striven  for  these  objects,  bearing,  mean- 
while, the  inevitable  reproach  and  contumely  of  such  a 
Reform,  but  never  abandoning  it.  And  if  the  views  herein 
contained,  are  to  receive  a  more  liberal  hearing  now  than 
they  could  have  at  the  period  of  their  advent  into  my 
own  mind,  that  favorable  circumstance,  according  to  my 
judgment,  is  due  mainly  to  these  efforts.  And  I  am  grateful 
for  them — not  so  much  because  they  have  prepared  an 
audience  for  my  word,  as  for  any  Truth  of  Woman,  from 
any  source. 

In  the  twenty-two  years  which  the  seed  of  this  Truth 
has  taken  for  its  maturing,  my  experience  has  been  so 
varied,  as  to  give  it  almost  every  form  of  trial  which  could 
fall  to  the  intellectual  life  of  any,  save  the  very  few  most 
favored  Women.  The  press  of  circumstance  has  crowded 
me,  during  those  years,  into  prospective  affluence,  and  again 


PREFACE.  VI 1 

reduced  me  to  poverty.  The  revolving  wheel  of  experience 
has  cast  me  up,  and  again  thrown  me  down,  on  the  thronged 
roads  where  I  have  had  to  walk.  Joy  and  grief,  happiness 
and  anguish,  hope  and  discouragement,  light  and  darkness, 
have  checkered  my  lot.  Wedlock  and  widowhood,  births 
and  deaths  have  enriched  and  impoverished  me.  I  have 
lived  in  the  thoughtful  solitude  of  the  frontier,  and  amid 
the  noise  and  distractions  of  the  crowded  mart.  Years  of 
severe  manual  labor  have  beeu  exacted  of  me  for  the  sup- 
port and  education  of  my  children — years  of  travel  have 
thrown  me  among  great  varieties  of  men  and  women  ;  and 
the  capacity  to  be  useful  to  them,  in  many  private  and 
public  ways,  has  mingled  me  much  with  their  inmost,  as 
well  as  their  more  common,  external  hopes,  desires,  fears 
and  purposes.  I  have  seen  these  in  all  varieties  of  charac- 
ter and  degree,  in  both  sexes  :  among  the  gifted  and  the 
stupid,  the  intelligent  and  the  ignorant,  the  noble  and  the 
mean,  the  liberal  and  the  bigoted,  the  criminal,  the 
outcast,  the  insane,  and  the  idiotic.  Each  phase  of  this 
varied  experience  has  taught  me  its  lesson :  each  has 
furnished  its  test  whereby  to  try  the  Truth  :  each  has 
given  its  measure  of  culture  to  the  little  seed  so  long  ago 
dropped  in  my  mind. 

And  this  is  its  product.  , 

I  ask  no  one  to  take  it  at  my  valuation.  I  only  affirm 
that  it  has  grown  steadily  through  the  storm  and  shine  of 
that  quarter  of  a  century,  and  is,  to  my  thought,  as  firmly 
grounded  among  the  eternal  Truths,  as  are  the  ribbed 
strata  of  the  rocks,  or  the  hollows  of  the  everlasting  sea.  I 
can  no  more  question  this  than  those. 

The     statement    of    it    here    offered,    has,    I   am    con 


Vlll  PREFACE. 

scious,  many  imperfections,  which  I  perhaps  shall  never 
be  able  to  correct.  But  one  T  shall  seek  to  remedy  at  an 
early  day,  by  a  succeeding  work.  This  is  the-  lack  of 
illustration  in  the  closing  chapters  of  the  present  work.  The 
defect,  if  such  it  shall  be  felt  to  be,  was  deliberately  per- 
mitted, for  reasons  which  entirely  justified  it  to  my  mind. 

For  the  fullest  help  of  Women,  at  this  initial  stage  of 
their  development,  in  becoming  co-workers  with  Nature,  in 
her  grand  design  of  Artistic  Maternity,  copious  illustration 
of  the  power  to  become  so,  is  needful.  For  this  I  have 
ample  stores,  from  the  observations  and  experiences  of 
these  twenty-two  years.  But  as  I  advanced,  I  saw  that 
statement  and  argument  must  quite  fully  precede  illustra- 
tion, in  order  to  make  the  latter  most  effective.  When  the 
foundation  is  laid,  the  superstructure  will  stand  secure.  I 
therefore  purposely  surrender  these  pages  to  stating  and 
reasoning  the  case.  They  may  be  taken,  also,  as  the  sure 
promise  of  more — not  from  me  alone,  but  from  hundreds 
of  apt  minds,  that  will  be  unsealed  to  give  voice  to  experi- 
ence, having  seen  her  in  the  clear  light  of  the  Truth  herein 
unvaried.  May  the  Power  who  quickens  the  faculty  that  is 
faithfully  used,  speed  the  day  of  Woman's  Illumination. 

Staten  Island,   Jan.,  1864.  E.  W.  F. 


WOMAN  AID  HEE  ERA 


PART    FIRST. 

CHAPTER    I. 
GENEEAL    VIEW. 

The  ultimate  aim  of  the  human  mind,  in  all  its 
efforts,  is  to  become  acquainted  with  Truth.  Because 
Truths  are  forms  of  Love,  and  hence  the  most  direct 
representatives  of  the  Divine,  which,  in  our  earthly 
capacity,  we  can  possibly  know.  Broadly  as  regards 
the  huma^i  relation  to  it,  Truth  maybe  said  to  be  of  two 
grand  forms,  Subjective,  or  internal;  Objective,  or 
external.  Subjective  Truth  is  that  which  lies  within 
the  domain  of  Vitality ;  the  truths  of  Organization,  of 
Sensibility,  Consciousness,  Emotion,  AVill,  Intelligence, 
and  Aspiration. 

Objective   Truth   is   that   which   lies  without   us, 

clothed  in  the  myriad  Forms  and  Phenomena  of  the 

visible  Creation.     For  forms  and  phenomena  are  only 

signs  of  Truth — they  exist  because  of  it,  perish  when 

it  has  been  expressed  and  answered  its  ends  of  use,  and 

are   but   its  language,  whereby  it   passes  out   of  the 
1* 


10  WOMAN    AND    HER   ERA. 

occult  to  the  sensible,  or  known.  As  the  thought  is, 
in  the  mind,  before  it  passes  into  speech,  so  Truth  is, 
before  all  form  or  fact  through  which  it  is  destined 
ultimately  to  express  itself. 

The  visible  Creation  is,  so  far  as  we  know,  an  inde- 
finite series  of  definite  forms,  and  a  vast  sequence  of 
facts  or  phenomena  resulting  from  their  development, 
relation,  and  decay ;  and  all  these  are  the  expression  or 
language  of  Objective  Truth.  The  logical  statement 
of  these  forms  and  facts,  i.  <?.,  their  statement  in  the 
order  in  which  Truth  occupies  and  employs  them,  is 
Science.  We  call  Objective  Truth  so  studied  and 
stated,  Katural  Science,  thus  authorizing  the  infer- 
ence that  there  is  a  super-nsLtural  science,  or  a  realm  of 
Truth  above  the  facts  of  external,  visible  Xature. 

The  Subjective  Creation  is,  first,  a  series  of  related 
inter-dependent  forms,  (organs),  making  a  perfect, 
independent  whole,  (the  human  body),  and  the  facts 
which  issue  from  these  relations,  the  physical  pheno- 
mena of  human  life.  Second,  a  body  of  Faculties  or 
Powers,  the  highest  earthly  signs  of  Truth,  of  which 
the  number  is  not  definitely  known,  but  of  which  we 
have  at  present  enough  knowledge  to  enable  us  to  pre- 
dicate certain  needs  and  possibilities,  and  a  certain 
destiny,  as  belonging  to  their  possessor.  Thus  e.  g., 
lit  is  the  universal  desire  of  the  human  species  to  be 
loved  ;  it  is  therefore  a  need  of  every  individual  of  that 
species — a  need  whose  satisfaction  is  indispensable  to 
the  fullness  and  perfection  of  each  individual.  It  is 
one  of  the  pleasures  of  every  human  being,  arrived  at 
consciousness,  to  learn  what  it  did  not  before  know. 
It  is  therefore  a  possibility  to  live  in  the  endless  acqui- 
sition of  knowledge — possibility  which  must  become 
actual  experience  to  the  end  of  completeness  in  the 


GENERAL    VIEW.  11 

individual.  It  is  the  ineradicable  desire  of  every 
human  soul,  advanced  to  a  certain  point  on  its  road  of 
progress,  to  expand  by  love,  by  thought,  by  know- 
ledge, by  experience,  and  so  unfold  continually  into  a 
larger  power — desire  which  becomes  actual  and  end- 
less growth  after  the  breath  of  aspiration  has  once 
entered  its  shriveled  chambers. 

But  I  propose  nothing  more  here  than  the  statement 
that  the  paramount  intention  of  creating  man  as  he  is, 
with  his  Subjective  wealth  of  Faculty,  and  the  external 
world  as  it  is,  with  its  Objective  wealth  of  Form  and 
Phenomena,  the  diverse  garb  of  Truth,  is  that  the  hu- 
man being  shall  grow,  first  intellectually  into  acquaint- 
ance with  it,  and  through  that  knowledge,  intellectually 
and  spiritually  into  acquaintance  with  Truth  immanent 
in  it,  and  so  into  acquaintance  with  its  Author,  of 
whose  character  this  Truth  is  part.  Man's  acquaint- 
ance with  Truth  commences  in  its  lowest,  its  physical 
expressions.  Form  introduces  her.  It  is  long  before 
he  rises  above  the  advantage  gained  by  that  primitive 
introduction.  A  root  of  grass,  with  its  leaves,  a  tuft  of 
herbage  or  a  shrub,  are  all  low  forms  of  Organic  Truth  : 
flowers  are  higher,  fruits  and  grains  still  above  these, 
and  so  on  endlessly,  but  always  Forms  address  the 
intelligence  first ;  then  follow  the  facts  which  accrue 
from  the  presence  and  relation  of  those  forms,  and  at 
each  step  the  faculties  employed  in  perceiving  and 
appreciating  what  is  before  them  rise  to  higher  action, 
and  advance  to  a  nearer  view  of  the  Source  of  Truth. 
I mt  from  the  first  embodiment  of  what  we  nowr  recog- 
nize as  the  human  faculties  in  our  race,  whenever  that 
took  place,  whether  at  its  initial  creation  or  at  the 
end  of  ages  of  development,  there  wTas  possessed  by  the 
human  soul  the  powTer,  however  latent,  either  to  enter- 


12  WOMAN   AND    HER    ERA. 

tain  intuitively  or  to  reach  inductively  any  truth  fitted 
to  human  comprehension.  And  so  we  find  that 
Science,  in  her  broadest  development,  is  taking  upon 
herself,  beside  the  proud  offices  of  discovery,  the  hum- 
ble one  of  confirming  occasionally  an  ancient  supersti- 
tion or  "  old  wife's  notion,"  (a  deduction),  which  her 
earlier  and  less  liberal  reading  scouted.  Fancies  too, 
which  have  found  general  entertainment  in  the  senti- 
ment or  the  lower  intellect,  turn  out  solid  Truths, 
commanding  respect,  when  we  can  penetrate  to  their 
foundation  in  Nature.  So  that  no  truly  liberal  per- 
sons— DV  which  I  mean  persons  not  proud  enough  to 
reject  Truth  simply  because  of  her  humble  origin,  nor 
bigoted  enough  to  be  startled  by  her,  however  strange 
her  first  aspect — no  such  persons  are  surprised  to  find  her 
coming  to  the  rescue  of  despised  opinions,  or  notions, 
or  poetic  fancies,  baptizing  them  in  her  own  pure, 
strong  currents,  and  setting  them  up  in  the  world  to 
demand  acknowledgment  and  loyalty. 

By  this  I  mean  that  Truth  has  two  modes  of 
addressing  the  soul — one,  which  we  will  call  Intuitive, 
by  which  she  has  in  all  times  penetrated  individual 
lives,  often  of  very  humble  capacities  and  sometimes 
extreme  in  ignorance;  and  another,  more  common 
method,  by  which  she  discloses  herself,  as  we  have  seen, 
through  the  instrumentality  of  Form,  to  the  Percep- 
tions, and  of  Phenomena,  to  the  reasoning  Intellect. 
The  first  is  the  result  of  a  fitness  of  relation  between 
the  soul  and  Truth,  which  may  be  little  above  the 
instinctual  capacities  of  brutes — which  employs  no 
reason,  develops  no  correlative  of  the  truths  it  feels, 
and  rarely  arrives  at  perfect  certainty  respecting  them. 
It  is  the  later  office  of  Intellect  to  indorse  the  respecta- 
bility and  verity  of  this  method.    It  need  not  be  further 


GENERAL   VIEW.  13 

spoken  of  here,  for  it  is  before  the  world,  employing 
not  a  few  of  its  ablest  brains  and  most  active  minds 
to-day.  But  so  much  was  needful,  before  I  could  ask  for 
one  of  the  most  pronounced  and  universal  Ideas,  enun- 
ciated by  this  method,  the  recognition  due  to  a  Truth. 

This  Idea  is  the  Superiority  of  Woman. 

The  purpose  of  this  volume  is  to  bring  to  this 
Intuition  of  the  early  ages,  of  the  most  emotional, 
devout  lives,  and  of  all  souls  in  their  best  and  clearest 
moments,  the  support  of  such  Truths,  both  of  Form  and 
Phenomena,  as  are  at  present  known  to  us. 

I  am  not  unaware  of  the  difficulties  which  seem  to 
surround  the  question,  but  unless  I  am  incapable  of 
weighing  evidence,  or  of  following  clear  and  unmis- 
takable premises  to  their  conclusions,  these  belong  to 
the  outset  of  the  undertaking,  and  will  vanish  as  it 
progresses.  The  development  of  the  proofs  which  are 
to  rescue  this  idea  from  its  degraded  position  of  an 
unsupported  notion,  or  mere  sentiment,  or  intuition, 
and  place  it  among  the  recognized,  effective,  develop- 
ing, capable  forces  that  bear  on  the  human  career,  is  a 
work  which  it  seems  to  me  only  a  woman  could  or 
would  naturally  undertake.  It  belongs  to  woman  to 
find  and  open  any  career  that  woman  is  to  run.  Of 
my  possible  success  in  finding  and  arraying  these 
proofs,  I  can  only  state  my  full  conviction  that  if  I  do 
not  achieve  it,  the  failure  will  be  due  to  my  own  ina- 
bility, not  to  their  paucity.-  What  they  are  or  appear 
to  be,  so  far  as  I  have  been  able  to  study  them,  I  shall 
proceed  to  define  after  a  few  more  general  statements, 
which  will,  I  hope,  prepare  the  careful  reader  to  come 
to  their  examination  in  a  frame  of  mind  worthy  of 
them,  and  of  the  movement  to  which  they  point. 


14  WOMAN    AND   HER    ERA. 

"We  speak  of  Scientific  Truths,  as  if  there  were,  or 
could  be,  truths  which  would  not  admit  of  an  exposi- 
tion and  relations  that  would  entitle  them  to  that  rank 
■ — truths  either  falling  below  or  lying  above  the  sphere 
of  Science.  But  if  the  definition  of  Science  given  above 
be  accepted,  then  we  shall  see  that  all  truths  will  more 
and  more  wheel  into  rank  and  order  under  its  broad 
banner,  as  we  become  more  widely  acquainted  with 
them  and  their  relations,  and  that  the  outlying  or 
empirical  truths  must  steadily  diminish  in  numbers 
and  importance,  till  finally  they  will  all  be  absorbed ; 
so  that  to  announce  a  truth  will  be  equivalent  to 
announcing  either  a  science  or  an  addition  to  a  science. 
I  will  repeat  the  definition,  that  it  may  stand  clear 
before  the  mind.  Science  is  a  logical  statement  of  the 
Truths  of  Form  and  Phenomena,  i.  <?.,  their  statement 
in  the  order  in  which  Truth  employs  them  as  her  signs 
or  exponents.  If  we  accept  this  definition,  we  shall 
see  how  narrow  must  necessarily  have  been  the  first 
basis  of  Science ;  with  what  difficulties,  as  its  history 
shows,  it  was  surrounded ;  how  vast  the  outlying  king- 
doms of  mere  Faith,  (I  do  not  mean  in  the  religious 
sense),  and  empirical  observation  must  have  been,  and 
how  almost  unavoidable  was  the  contempt  with  which 
Science  regarded  them. 

The  first  truths  which  would  marshal  themselves  in 
its  order  would  be,  as  has  been  already  said,  the  lowest 
truths  of  the  physical  world,  truths  in  forms.  So 
Science  began  in  the  pure  materialism  of  all  its  earliest 
departments,  Astronomy,  Anatomy,  Chemistry,  Botany, 
Mineralogy,  &c.,  and  has  only  very  slowly  crept  above 
the  study  of  forms,  to  the  higher  and  later  developed 
one  of  phenomena.  In  proof  of  this,  consider  how  very 
young  is  Physiology,  the  Science  of  Yital  Phenomena, 


GENERAL    VIEW.  15 

compared  with  Anatomy,  the  Science  of  Yital  Forms. 
Abundant  illustrations  of  like  character  might  be 
offered  if  I  Mere  attempting  a  history  of  Science  and 
of  the  methods  of  its  development.  But  not  to  be  pro- 
lix, I  must  confine  myself  to  the  most  general  state- 
ments that  will  serve  as  illustrations.  As  in  all  natural 
development  so  here,  the  physical  took  precedence,  and 
thus  the  oldest  sciences  will  have  the  narrowest  phe- 
nomenal and  dvnamical  development  in  their  later  peri- 
ods, while  the  younger  ones  will  be  rich  in  these,  their 
secondary  phases.  Human  Anatomy,  for  example,  has 
received  an  exhaustive  treatment  at  the  hands  of  a  few 
able  masters,  but  human  Physiology  is  just  beginning 
to  unfold  to  us  its  grand  and  sublime  lessons  on  Man. 
And  this  not  simply  because  one  is  old  and  the  other 
young,  but  because  one  is  limited  in  its  nature,  dealing 
with  Forms,  and  the  other  unlimited,  dealing  with 
Phenomena  or  Functions.  One  is  a  statement  of  a 
definite  number  of  facts  of  forms,  their  qualities  and 
relations,  the  other, treating  of  the  phenomena  result- 
ant from  the  existence  and  combination  of  these,  is 
comparatively  as  much  more  inexhaustible  as  the 
words  of  our  language  are  more  inexhaustible  than  the 
alphabet  of  which  they  are  the  combinations.  This 
comparison,  it  must  be  remembered,  is  rather  suggest- 
ive than  just,  since  it  has  no  parallel  to  the  intrinsic 
difference  between  form  and  phenomena — in  other 
words,  between  Materiality  and  Spirituality. 

It  may  with  justice  be  said  that  until  the  century 
which  will  close  with  1870,  there  were  never  found 
among  the  stores  of  our  knowledge,  the  complete  ele- 
ments of  a  Science  of  Humanity,  by  which  I  mean  a 
Science  of  the  three-fold  Man,  organic,  spiritual,  and 
social.     Investigation  up  to  that  period  had  scarcely 


16  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

touched,  analytic  ally,  the  psychological  side  of  the  human 
being.  That  had  been  dealt  with  chiefly  by  the  philo- 
sophers and  metaphysicians — dogmatists  all  of  neces- 
sity— men  who  mixed  the  profoundest  truths  with  the 
gravest  errors,  and  spent  great  lives  in  bringing  to  the 
light  the  few  pearls  for  which  they  had  successfully 
dived  in  that  boundless  sea  of  speculation.  Honor  to 
them  and  their  work.  Even  the  physiologists  had  accom- 
plished comparatively  little  for  us  up  to  the  period 
named,  though  their  field  lay  so  much  below  this,  and 
had  been  visited  and  had  its  soil  turned  up  to  the  light 
by  such  men  as  Harvey  and  Descartes,  not  to  mention 
the  innumerable  earlier  speculators  and  discoverers  on 
a  lesser  scale  in  Animal  Physics.  Cuvier  and  Bichat 
were  born  ninety  years  ago,  so  that  all  their  brilliant 
contributions  fall  within  the  period  I  have  named,  and 
it  could  be  shown  by  unquestionable  facts,  were  such 
my  object,  that  as  a  science,  exposing  human  functions 
and  capacities,  it  scarcely  had  an  existence  before  this 
date. 

On  the  metaphysical  side,  the  substantial  work  of 
analysis  commenced  with  Dr.  Gall  and  his  able  and 
faithful  disciple,  Spurzheim.  I  speak  not  wholly  in 
ignorance  or  forgetfulness  of  the  early  philosophers; 
neither  ignoring  the  inestimable  value  of  the  work  of 
later  ones — Bacon,  Locke,  Hobbes,  Berkeley,  Hartley, 
Hume,  Hamilton — Kant  and  his  gifted  followers  of  the 
German  school — nor  the  eminent  ability  of  the  Scots, 
represented  in  Reid,  Smith,  and  Stewart.  These  men 
enriched  the  literature  of  metaphysics  by  varied,  pro- 
found, and  brilliant  additions  thereto ;  yet  was  their 
exposition  of  truth  a  chance,  as  their  failure  to  set  one 
forth  at  all  times  when  they  believed  themselves  to  be 
doing  so,  was  due  rather  to  accidental  missing  of  it 


GENERAL    VIEW.  17 

than  to  inability  to  search  to  any  depth  and  bring  it 
to  light,  provided  they  had  had  a  method  for  find- 
ing it.  The  chief  value  of  their  works  is  in  the  record 
they  furnish  of  the  Conflict  of  Development  and  the 
Encounter  of  Ideas.  As  repositories  of  truths  which  we 
need ;  as  armories  of  actual  and  imperishable  instru- 
ments of  Progress — which  all  true  Ideas  are — they 
have  as  little  value,  I  think,  as  so  much  very  able, 
learned,  profound,  and  critical  writing  well  could 
have. 

With  every  variety  of  method  except  the  true  one, 
(and  even  with  fragments  of  that),  and  with  no 
method ;  with  every  conceivable  conception  and  per- 
ception of  man's  psychological  nature  except  those 
which  show  its  connection  with  and  dependence  on  the 
physical ;  with  the  deepest  longings  for  the  high  truths 
which  their  earnest  souls  felt,  and  of  which  their  acute 
intellects  caught  dim  and  broken  glimpses  occasion- 
ally— these  and  many  others  as  able  piled  up  speculation 
upon  speculation,  contradiction  upon  assertion,  belief 
upon  skepticism,  and  skepticism  upon  belief,  till,  when 
the  last  of  them  had  lived  and  written,  there  was  truly 
need  that  somebody  should  appear  who  could  pene- 
trate the  conglomerate  to  its  center,  find  the  material 
root  of  inquiry,  and  declare,  with  authority  that  would 
compel  attention,  that  man  is,  in  all  departments  of 
his  being,  the  subject  of  law,  no  less  than  the  trees 
and  the  animals ;  and  that  these  laws  could  be  reached 
only  through  the  study  of  his  material  nature.  This 
Gall  did.  True  the  religious  world  denounced  him  as 
a  materialist,  and  his  discoveries  as  rank  infidelity. 
But  had  not  the  world  waited  long  enough  on  the  phi- 
losophers, and  fruitlessly  enough  too,  in  some  senses  ? 
It  is  answer  enough  to  the  scorn  with  which  his  method 


18  WOMAN    AND    HER    EEA. 

and  system  have  been  treated  in  some  quarters,  that, 
whatever  may  be  the  errors  that  have  crept  into  them 
in  unworthy  or  incompetent  hands,  the  former  has 
dried  up  the  succulent  root  of  metaphysical  speculation 
beyond  all  hope  of  renewal.  The  metaphysicians  have 
perished  within  the  last  century  and  can  no  more  be 
restored  as  a  school,  than  the  order  of  the  megatheria 
or  the  sauria.  Gall's  method,  (of  incomparably  greater 
value  than  his  system),  opened  immense  possibilities 
and  privileges  to  the  race,  not  the  least  of  which  is  that 
of  having  a  natural  history,  a  privilege  which  may  be 
said  to  have  belonged  before  exclusively  to  the  brute 
animals. 

Thus  the  Science  of  Humanity  is  the  youngest  of 
its  family,  and  has  the  longest  vista,  not  simply 
because  of  its  youth,  but  no  less  because  of  its  subject — 
the  embodiment  of  the  greatest  number  of  the  grandest 
truths  that  can  be  grasped  by  the  human  intellect. 
'Nor  ought  the  fact  to  be  regarded  as  any  cause  of 
complaint,  or  as  furnishing  grounds  of  impeachment 
against  the  natural  order  of  development.  The  lower 
must  precede  the  higher;  foundation  must  go  before 
superstructure.  The  objective  world  was,  before  us, 
and  in  harmony  with  its  pre-existence,  we  were  created 
with  faculties  to  take  immediate  cognizance  of  its 
superficial  facts,  and  with  other  faculties,  back  of 
them,  to  take  later  cognizance  of  its  deeper-lying 
facts.  Of  necessity  man  would  thus  take  a  late 
place  among  the  objects  studied  by  man :  so  much 
knowledge  must  prepare  the  way  for  an  interest 
in  and  appreciation  of  the  knowledge  of  himself. 
Finding  himself  master  in  the  visible  world,  there  was 
nothing  more  natural  than  that  he  should  believe  him- 
self superior  in  his  origin  and  destiny  to  the  nature 


i.KAL    VIEW.  19 

with  which  ho  was  surrounded,  both  of  matter  and  of 
life;  supernatural,  therefore,  in  the  sense  of  being 
above  an  exposition,  such  as  Science  makes  of  its  sub- 
jects, and  so  prone  to  make  for  his  use  arl'rfranj  sys- 
tems of  Religion,  Ethics,  and  Philosophy.  We  see  and 
cannot  choose  but  see,  how  slender  is  the  actual  rela- 
tion between  man's  organic  nature  and  the  institutions 
in  which  he  has  clothed  himself;  in  other  words  how 
purely  arbitrary  they  are,  neglecting  the  fundamental 
laws  of  his  organic  and  super-organic  being,  and  how 
the  little  welfare  that  he  enjoys  he  gets  rather  in  spite 
of  than  through  them.  Thus  there  is  not  in  existence, 
nor  has  there  ever  been,  a  Church  which  has  had  its 
origin  in  any  intelligent  understanding  of  the  human 
being,  and  which  therefore  could  frame  its  appeals 
wisely  to  his  whole  nature,  so  as  to  bring  him  forward 
to  a  harmonious  development,  neither  to  address  its 
consolations  and  helps  to  all  in  him  that  needs  aid  and 
strength  from  so  high  a  source. 

Quite  the  contrary :  the  Church,  wherever  we 
know  its  spirit,  has  despised  and  trampled  on  some 
portion  of  the  nature  which  needed  and  sought  its 
help.  Our  own  theological  Church,  as  we  know,  has 
scorned  and  villified  the  body  till  it  has  seemed  almost 
a  reproach  and  a  shame  to  have  one,  yet  at  the  same 
time  has  credited  it  with  power  to  drag  the  soul  to 
perdition.  It  is  only  beginning,  in  certain  liberal  off- 
shoots— the  growth  substantiallv  of  the  last  half- 
century — to  acknowledge  respectability  enough  in  the 
body  to  entitle  it  to  be  treated  as  an  instrument  worth 
improving  for  the  sake  of  its  tenant. 

In  like  manner  there  is  no  Government,  nor  lias 
ever  been,  which  got  itself  constituted  by  virtue  of  a 
clear  understanding  of  what  is  needful  for  the  physical, 


20  WOMAN   AND    HER    ERA. 

social,  intellectual,  and  spiritual  well-being  of  its  sub- 
jects :  nor  was  there  ever  a  Government  which,  in  its 
administration,  made  even  a  remote  approach  to  any 
such  system  of  treatment.  So  no  social  order  ever 
existed  which  was  founded  upon  a  just  perception  of 
the  natural  claims  and  rights  of  those  whom  it  distri- 
buted and  co-ordinated  in  labor  and  business,  or  soci- 
ety ;  the  motive  in  all  past  or  existing  systems  having 
been  self-love,  the  warrant  power.  It  would  be  need- 
less to  multiply  illustrations,  since  each  must  be  in  the 
relation  of  a  minor  proposition  to  the  major  one,  that 
without  a  Science  of  Man  it  is  impossible  that  human 
institutions  should  be  founded  in  a  wise  and  catholic 
adaptation  to  his  nature.  The  parts  are  included  in 
the  whole — we  cannot  know  the  latter  if  we  are  igno- 
rant of  any  of  the  former. 

Seeing  these  things  as  matters  of  history,  which  no 
intelligent  man  or  woman  will  undertake  to  deny — 
this  newness  of  man  to  the  science  of  himself — the  con- 
sequent incompleteness  of  his  institutions  and  orders 
of  self-service,  and  the  important  truth  that,  standing 
at  the  top  of  the  life-scale,  his  self-study  must  not  only 
be  later  but  longer  than  the  study  of  any  other  object 
in  the  creation — we  are  prepared  to  receive  with 
unspeakable  interest  and  gratitude  any  new  actual 
unfolding  or  exposition  of  this  sovereign  race. 

But  in  entering  upon  it  we  must  not  lose  sight  of 
the  fundamental  truth  that  the  human  being  is  to  be 
studied, not  only  in  his  lower,  but  in  his  higher  nature, 
primarily  through  the  material  organization  which  first 
makes  him  known.  This  is  not  materialism.  Let  none 
be  startled  by  a  fear  that  it  is.  Neither  is  it  denying 
that  man  has  a  super-material  existence.  It  is  simply 
asserting  that  organization  is  the  visible  hand-writing 


GENERAL    VIEW.  21 

of  God  in  the  world  of  Life.  What  He  tenants  the 
living  forms  with;  whether  with  the  individuality  of  a 
tree,  a  brute-animal,  or  a  human  and  immortal  spirit, 
He  will  declare  to  us,  first  in  His  workmanship  in  the 
thing  or  creature  itself,  and  beyond  this  in  any  manner 
that  best  comports  with  Supreme  Love  and  Wisdom ; 
by  inspiration  of  the  spirit  manifested  in  oral  speech  or 
written  scriptures;  or  in  no  manner  above  its  own 
organic  language,  which  is  incorruptible,  and  will  bear 
but  one  reading  at  the  last,  no  matter  how  many 
scholars  assemble  over  it. 

Progressive  life  has  had  in  the  past  ages  two  leadings, 
in  diametrical  opposition  to  each  other.  One,  the  reli- 
gious, has  despised  the  living  organization  and  the 
whole  of  material  nature:  the  other,  the  intellectual, 
headed  by  Science,  has  despised  everything  but  organi- 
zation. I  am  not  called  on  to  show  which  party  has 
exhibited  the  greater  degree  of  unreason.  Each  has 
been  grounded  upon  a  great  truth  of  Humanity — the 
one  upon  its  physical,  the  other  upon  its  spiritual ;  and 
it  is  not  more  certain  that  summer  and  winter,  day  and 
night,  will  continue  to  follow  each  other,  than  that 
these  parties  are  destined  to  become  one,  making  com- 
mon premises,  and  throwing  down  the  walls  between 
whatever  is  left  to  them  as  conclusion,  after  this 
coalescence.  One  thing  is  clear,  that  the  confirmation 
of  whatever  is  true  with  her  opponent  belongs  to 
Science.  As  she  has  had  to  "  stoop  to  baptize  charms, 
and  acknowledge  simples,"  and  confess  the  verity  of 
much  that  seemed,  of  old,  to  be  mere  superstition — so 
it  belongs  to  her,  as  the  incorruptible  expositor  of 
God's  will,  to  try  in  her  crucibles  the  Basis-Facts 
and  Phenomena  of  all  Truth  whatsoever,  that  can 
become  known  to  us  in  the  present  stage  of  our  being. 


22  WOMAJS    AND    HEIt    ERA. 

JSTor  does  this  in  the  smallest  degree  diminish  the 
respect  due  to  the  spiritual  truths  which  claim  her 
confirmation,  nor  disparage  their  dignity.  Is  man  of 
less  dignity,  that  the  earth  had  to  go  through  thousands 
of  years  of  preparation  to  receive  him,  and  publish  his 
wonderful  powers  to  the  gazing  universe?  Is  the 
tree  of  less  majesty  or  excellence,  that  the  primary 
strata  which  are  its  ultimate  support,  had  to  receive  a 
dressing,  which  it  took  ages  to  deposit  upon  them, 
before  it  could  grow  there  ? 

Spirituality  does  not  go  to  Science  for  dignity  or 
authority,  but  for  needed  service  which  the  ages  they 
have  spent  in  groping  conflict  with  each  other,  have 
made  it  as  necessary  for  the  one  to  give  as  for  the 
other  to  receive.  The  Spiritual,  (religious)  party  rep- 
resenting the  Subjective;  and  the  Scientific,  (intel- 
lectual) one,  the  Objective ;  and  the  latter  taking  pre- 
cedence in  its  claims  upon  the  human  understanding, 
it  falls  out  quite  naturally  and  inevitably  that  the  day 
should  come  when  it  must  pass  into  the  service  of  the 
former.  For  there  is  no  logic  required  to  show  that 
the  lower  is  not  only  subordinate,  but  subservient  to 
the  higher,  and  that  this  relation  is  the  very  exaltation, 
dignity,  and  harmony  of  all.  So  it  turns  out  that 
Objective  Science,  which  is  the  utterly  correct  reading 
of  the  external  world,  is  not  concluded  in  itself,  but  is 
to  pass  into  orderly  and  serviceable  relation  to  some- 
what higher,  namely,  the  development  of  the  Subject- 
ive. So  organization,  the  primitive  language  of  Deity 
in  the  world  of  life,  and  the  sole  proof  touching  it 
which  Science  can  recognize,  will  be  no  more  studied 
as  an  end,  but  as  a  means,  employed  by  the  Creator  for 
the  development  of  higher  purposes  than  can  be 
expressed  in  gross  matter ;  and  when  this  takes  place, 


GENERAL   VIEW.  23 

the  methods  of  the  scientists  and  spiritualists  will  be  at 
one,  for  Science  will  then  no  longer  despise  the  Future, 
which  Spirituality  has  claimed  as  alone  worthy,  and 
Spirituality  will  no  longer  despise  the  Present,  which 
Science  has  declared  to  be  the  all  in  all  to  man. 

I  need  not  stay  to  dwell  on  the  numerous  evidences 
that  this  refreshing  day  is  near  at  hand.  A  bare  allu- 
sion to  the  two  ^reat  leading  features  of  our  time  must 
suffice  here,  and  be  my  authority,  with  what  has  been 
before  said,  for  passing  from  this  difficult,  because  con- 
densed general  statement,  to  the  special  subject  of  this 
work.  These  two  features  might  perhaps  be  desig- 
nated as  the  reverse  and  obverse  of  Nature's  highest 
coinage,  the  human  creature — the  one  the  study  of  his 
physical,  the  other  that  of  his  super-physical  being,  to 
which  the  century  that  another  decade  will  round  off, 
especially  the  late  years  of  that  century,  have  given 
such  immeasurable  impulse  and  activity.  Out  of  this 
activity  in  both  departments  must  come,  first,  such 
results  in  Ideas — i.  <?.,  in  the  knowledge  of  Truths, 
through  their  Forms  and  Phenomena — as  will  secure 
to  humanity  self-respect,  self-reverence,  and  intelligent 
reverence  of  the  God  who  made  it  worthy  of  these  sen- 
timents, instead  of  consigning  it  to  a  foreknown 
depravity  and  perdition;  next,  such  a  knowledge  of 
the  destiny  to  which  Organization  is  the  infallible 
premise,  as  will  kindle  all  manner  of  noble  aspiration 
toward  the  highest,  and  unspeakable  yearnings  for 
acquaintance  with  the  hidden  possibilities  and  latent 
capacities  of  improvement  which  both  the  physical  and 
the  spiritual  now  enfold;  and  lastly,  such  unity 
between  Humanity  and  its  elder  brother,  external 
Nature,  that  while  the  one,  in  all  her  diversified  forms, 
places  herself  in  service  to  the  other,  it  shall  be  seen 


24  WOMAN    AND    HER  ERA. 

that  each  is  ennobled  and  exalted  by  all  that  the  other 
does  to  harmonize,  adorn,  and  develop  Nature,  his 
home,  wherein  and  wherewith  are  the  sources  of  his 
joys,  his  peace,  and  his  growth  into  fitness  for  the 
higher  state  which  is  his  destiny  when  that  fitness 
shall  be  accomplished. 

To  further  this,  to  secure  the  improvement  of 
humanity,  and  higher  yet  than  any  improvement  of 
individuals,  communities,  or  nations,  to  point  out 
methods,  which,  if  they  are  true,  are  God's  own  plans 
for  this  noble  work,  and  which,  being  developed, 
become  the  richest  inheritance  which  one  age  can 
bequeath  to  another,  is  the  noblest  privilege  life  can 
offer  us.  Those  to  whose  lot  it  falls  to  do  one  such 
service,  however  small,  may  well  feel  grateful  that 
God  has  permitted  them  such  a  foretaste,  while  yet  in 
the  mortal  form,  of  the  happiness  which  must  be  near 
akin  to  His  as  Creator.  To  bring  forth  latent,  unem- 
ployed powers,  and  show  their  uses,  is  something  more 
than  to  awaken  slumbering  aspirations :  it  is  to  ally 
ourselves  very  nearly  with  One  who  created  those 
powers  and  left  it  to  their  possessors  to  discover  the 
fitting  season  and  place  for  their  use  in  the  great  plan 
of  Progress.  Not  indeed  that  we  do  discover  them, 
but  are  perhaps  rather  instruments,  in  our  best  as  in 
our  humblest  work,  in  the  Divine  hands,  for  the  exe- 
cution and  completion  of  designs  and  purposes  which 
have  apparently  been  left  unfinished  that  we  may  the 
more  fully  co-work  to  their  development.  The  stimu- 
lus of  discovery — almost  of  Creator — comes  to  us  as,  in 
our  walks  through  the  ages,  we  find  these  latent  trea- 
sures, bring  them  to  the  light,  and  fit  them  into  their 
true  relations  of  use  in  the  scheme  of  which  they  seem 
not  before  to  have  formed  a  part. 


GENERAL   VIEW.  25 

This  volume  is  written  to  place  before  the  minds  of 
those  who  may  read  it  a  Truth  of  our  human  life  made 
manifest  in  both  the  Physical  and  Spiritual  of  Woman, 
which  has  heretofore  had  no  logical  proof  offered  in  its 
support,  and  consequently  no  intelligent,  calm,  rea- 
sonable acknowledgment  anywhere.  But  truth  of  any 
life,  is  never  newly  unfolded  without  revealing  powers 
and  capacities  in  the  life  before  unsuspected  or  but 
suspected.  And  as  the  truth  I  have  to  state  is  of 
Woman,  the  demand  is  upon  her  primarily ;  as  it  is 
the  most  exalted  truth  of  her  being,  so  the  demands  are 
upon  her  highest  and  noblest  powers;  and  as  these 
must  be  employed  to  meet  them,  the  fruit  they  must 
yield  will  be  of  corresponding  value  and  power  in  their 
bearing  upon  human  destiny.  Therefore  let  no  one 
whose  soul  is  worthy  the  noble  and  sweet  name  of 
Woman,  shrink  from  acquainting  herself  with  the 
Truth,  and  worthily  preparing  herself  to  exercise  the 
powers  it  implies  and  charges  her  to  put  to  use  in  her 
life. 


CHAPTEK    II. 

THE    OEGAKIC    ARGUMENT. 

I  begin  with  this  syllogism : 

Life  is  exalted  in  proportion  to  its  Organic  and 
Functional  Complexity ; 

Woman's  Organism  is  more  Complex  and  her 
totality  of  Function  larger  than  those  of  any  other 
being  inhabiting  onr  earth ; 

Therefore  her  position  in  the  scale  of  Life  is  the 
most  exalted — the  Sovereign  one. 

The  major  premise  of  this  statement  would  seem, 
at  the  first  glance  from  even  unlearned  common  sense, 
to  be  a  self-evident  truth ;  at  least  to  require  little  more 
than  simple  suggestions  or  hints  to  secure  the  assent  of 
such  as  are  capable  of  intelligent  assent  to  any  propo- 
sition. We  all  feel  that  individual  life  rises  in  dignity 
as  it  employs  additional  instruments  for  its  expression. 
Thus  the  most  ignorant  man  recognizes  his  dog  as  a 
higher  creature  than  the  reptile  of  the  fields  or  the 
barn-yard  fowl,  not  because  he  is  better  made  for  his 
lot  than  they  for  theirs,  but  because  his  life  is  the  sum 
of  a  greater  variety  of  powers.  Physiologically  speaking, 
there  is  more  of  the  quadruped,  though  he  be  a  poodle, 
than  of  the  reptile,  though  he  be  an  aiiaconda,taldng 
an  ox  to  his  breakfast. 

The   boor  has  a   perception    of  what   the   savant 


THE    ORGANIC   ARGUMENT.  27 

knows,  that  an  Organ  is  a  sign  of  a  Power.  Each  added 
Organ  is  Nature's  direct  testimony  to  the  presence  of 
an  added  power,  which  by  so  much  enlarges  and 
enriches  the  life.  Comparative  Anatomy  and  Com- 
parative Physiology  are  Sciences  by  virtue  of  this  great 
truth,  their  functions  being  to  acquaint  us  not  only 
with  life,  its  forms  and  means  of  expression,  but  also 
with  the  relation  which  its  various  embodiments  hold 
to  each  other.  In  ascending  the  scale  which  each  of 
these  sciences  offers  for  our  study,  we  are  constantly 
making  acquaintance  with  added  organs  and  powers  : 
widening  the  circle  of  vital  actions  and  relations  which 
each  type  and  grade  of  created  beings  enjoys  and  holds: 
and  vice  versa^  in  descending  it,  we  lose,  in  our  study 
of  the  types  and  grades,  powers  and  organs  which  we 
had  before.  These  sciences  announce  Nature's  pur- 
pose and  method  in  the  world  of  life,to  be  its  exaltation 
by  the  gradual  addition  to  its  lowest  or  fundamental 
powers,  of  those  which  make  up  its  highest  manifesta- 
tion. They  employ  various  formulae,  it  is  true,  but 
always  to  express  unanimity  of  meaning. 

If  I  were  addressing  myself  to  scientific  readers 
only,  it  woidd  at  first  thought  seem  superfluous  to  go 
beyond  the  third  term  of  my  syllogism.  The  claim  in 
behalf  of  Woman  might  be  considered  as  proved  in  its 
mere  announcement,  so  strictly  scientific  is  the  basis  on 
which  it  is  rested,  so  inevitable  the  conclusion  in  her 
favor.  The  wonder  would  appear  to  be  not  so  much 
that  it  should  be  stated  now,  as  that  it  should  need  to 
be — that  it  should  stand  to-day  among  the  unacknow- 
ledged truths.  But  on  looking  again,  one  ijees  that  the 
case  is  not  so  won — no,  nor  likely  to  be  immediately, 
by  any  force  or  amount  of  argument  that  can  be  offered 
upon  it.     And  this  for  two  reasons ;  first,  because  dis- 


28  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

ciples  of  Science  are  slow  to  accept  conclusions,  from 
their  own  premises,  which  they  have  not  reached  them- 
selves ;  and  second,  because  in  this  special  case,  the  con- 
clusion is  the  most  revolutionary  yet  reached  in  our 
development ;  and  it  therefore  attacks  the  oldest  usages, 
the  most  compact  body  of  opinions,  and  the  strongest 
prejudices  that  have  been  entertained  by  society  in  any 
and  every  stage  of  its  progress,  up  to  the  present  time. 
It  would,  for  these  reasons,  wear  the  aspect  of  error,  if 
there  were  not  in  the  universal  heart  of  humanity, 
deeper  than  its  usages,  more  sacred  than  its  opinions, 
contradicting  its  prejudices,  an  instinct,  a  sentiment, 
an  intuition  of  its  truth.  This,  as  we  advance  with  the 
subject,  we  shall  find  flowing  through  the  ages — like  a 
pure  stream  through  a  broken,  marshy  country — lost  in 
deserts  or  wildernesses  at  times,  becoming  subterra- 
nean here  to  burst  forth  in  greater  power  and  bright- 
ness there — seeking  refuge,  in  the  rudest  times,  in  the 
few  chivalrous,  or  timid,  or  sentimental  bosoms,  to 
come  forth  and  move  the  million  again  when  the  earth- 
quake, and  the  storm,  and  the  strife,  are  past.  Thus  the 
claim  of  superiority  for  Woman  is  as  old  as  the  senti- 
ment toward  her  in  the  human  heart,  and  as  new  as 
the  very  latest  study  of  her  by  the  reasoning  intellect — 
so  old  that  it  is  already  conceded  by  the  finer  con- 
sciousness of  mankind — so  new  that  it  will  probably  be 
almost  universally  and  hotly  disputed  by  its  Inductive 
Intellect.  But  the  period  has  arrived  when  human 
welfare  demands  that  intellectual  conviction  of  the 
Truth  of  Woman  should  take  the  place,  not  only  in  her 
own  bosom  but  in  that  of  man  and  society,  of  the  sen- 
timental acknowledgment  of  it.  To  this  end  are  my 
labors ;  and  in  going  forward  with  them,  I  shall,  as  far 
as  it  is  given  me  to  see  and  be  faithful  to  Nature,  fol- 


THE   ORGANIC   ARGUMENT.  29 

low  her  so  closely,  that  to  dispute  the  one  will  be  to 
deny  the  other.  All  that  I  ask  for  Woman  is  what 
.Nature  designs  for  her.  It  will  fully  content  me  to 
si  low  so  much  of  that  as  I  am  able  to  see,  knowing  that 
to  show  and  to  obtain,  here,  are  one. 

Let  us  then  see  what  Nature  declares  of  Woman, 
through  her  Organic  testimony. 

I  have  said  that  she  operates  the  elevation  of  her 
types  and  grades  by  the  addition  of  parts  not  employed 
in  the  inferior  types  and  grades.  Yital  structure  com- 
mences with  a  primordial  cell.  We  may  go  further 
back  and  call  it  a  corpuscle  if  we  please,  but  the  career 
of  every  living  being,  whether  vegetable  or  animal, 
begins  at  one  of  these  points  (so  far  as  Science  has  yet 
ascertained),  and  leads  up  to  the  limits  of  differentia- 
tion of  which  its  type  and  grade  are  capable.  By  dif- 
ferentiation is  meant  those  changes  which  the  primor- 
dial form  undergoes,  in  becoming  fitted  to  serve  the 
functions  of  the  life  it  is  destined  to  ultimate  in.  Car- 
penter says,  "  The  lower  we  descend  in  the  scale  of 
being,  whether  in  the  animal  or  in  the  vegetable 
series,  the  nearer  approach  do  we  make  to  that  homo- 
geneousness  which  is  the  typical  attribute  of  inorganic 
bodies,  wherein  every  particle  has  all  the  characters  of 
individuality,  so  that  there  is  no  distinction  either  of 
tissues  or  organs.  *  *  *  On  the  other  hand,  as  we 
ascend  the  scale  of  being,  we  find  the  fabric — whether 
of  the  plant  or  the  animal — becoming  more  and  more 
heterogeneous /  that  is,  to  use  Yon  Bar's  language,  'a 
differentiation  of  the  body  into  organic  systems,  and  of 
these  again  into  separate,  more  individualized  sections,' 
presents  itself.  *  *  The  differentiation,  both  as 
regards  external  conformation  and  intimate  structure, 
proceeds  to  a  far  wider  extent  in  the  animal  kingdom, 


30  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

in  virtue  of  the  much  greater  variety  of  purposes  to  be 
attained  in  its  existence ;  and  we  see  this  carried  to  its 
highest  degree  in  man,  in  whose  organism  the  prin- 
ciple of  sjjecialization  (differentiation)  everywhere 
manifests  itself,  no  part  being  a  precise  repetition  of 
any  other,  except  of  the  corresponding  part  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  body." — (Comp.  Physiology, 
p.  48.) 

Draper  says,  "By  the  differentiation  of  cells  is 
meant  the  assumption  of  a  variation  in  their  structure, 
from  which  follows,  as  a  consequence,  the  capacity  of 
discharging  new  functions."  The  higher  then  the 
degree  of  differentiation  reached,  the  greater  and  more 
various  the  functional  capacity.  Homogeneousness 
being  the  typical  attribute  of  inorganic  bodies,  hetero- 
geneousness  must  be  accepted  as  the  typical  attribute 
of  organic  bodies.  Every  differentiated  part  is  evi- 
dence of  an  added  power  or  function  which  expands 
the  life,  and  multiplies  its  relations  to  the  objective 
world.  The  mollusk  is  bound  to  the  creation,  outside 
of  his  shell,  by  a  very  slender  body  of  relations  com- 
pared with  those  which  the  cetacea,  the  quadruped,  or 
man  enjoys.  There  is  a  long  distance  in  development 
between  the  oyster  and  the  whale,  and  it  is  the  pro- 
duct of  those  changes  from  the  primordial  of  the  latter, 
which  the  former  has  not  reached — which  have  added 
to  the  functions  of  the  oyster  the  functions  of  the 
whale.  The  quadruped  is  still  farther  removed,  and 
the  human  farthest,  because  in  it  is  embodied  the  largest 
sum  of  differentiations  from  the  primary  form.  And 
with  every  new  relation  so  established,  the  creature 
becomes  more  universal,  and  the  universal  comes  more 
within  the  creature:  every  new  function  is  a  road 
opened  between  the  individual  and  the  universal  life. 


THE   OBGANIC    ARGUMENT.  31 

And  whatever  theory  of  development  we  adopt,  this 
law  remains  as  a  feature  thereof;  that  rank  in  the 
organic  scale  is  determined  by  the  amount  of  differen- 
tiation accomplished  by  the  type  and  grade  to  which 
the  life  belongs.  It  matters  not  whether  we  reject  or 
accept  the  terms  high  and  low ;  whether  we  determine 
that  there  are  orders,  classes,  genera,  bearing  the  rela- 
tions of  inferior  and  superior,  or  that  the  whole  world 
of  life  is  a  race,  which  some  types  have  but  just  started 
upon,  while  others  are  well  advanced,  and  others  still 
have  reached  the  ultimate  of  the  earth-forms.  For 
still,  as  determining  the  question  of  primal  rank,  or  of 
place,  whichever  we  agree  to  call  it,  we  are  equally 
confronted,  on  either  hypothesis,  with  the  truth  that 
the  rank  is  fixed,  or  the  place  is  found,  by  means  of  the 
number  of  original  powers  or  functions  which  the  life 
exhibits.  Or  to  quote  the  law  announced  by  Yon  Bar 
and  accepted  by  all  the  late  authorities,  "  The  relations 
of  any  organized  fabric  to  any  other,  must  be  expressed 
by  the  product  of  its  type  with  its  grade  of  develop- 
ment." 

If  we  refer  to  the  lower  series  now,  for  illustration 
of  this  law,  we  shall  find  that  life  begins  in  forms  which 
are  but  a  single  remove,  and  that  the  smallest,  from  the 
inorganic  condition.  The  organic  cell  is  a  cell,  instead 
of  a  mere  atom  of  matter,  by  virtue  of  its  capacity  fur 
developing  conditions  which  serve  the  functions  of 
Nutrition  and  Reproduction,  these  being  indispensable 
to  life  in  every  form — the  first  step  in  the  process  of 
Differentiation.  But  among  the  lowest  plants  and  ani- 
mals they  are  carried  on  alike  in  all  parts  of  the  living 
body,  there  being,  as  is  commonly  known,  large  fami- 
lies in  the  vegetable  kingdom,  in  which  nutrition  is 
performed  by  vessels  distributed  throughout  the  entire 


32  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

tissue,  instead  of  being  localized  in  the  root  and  leaf, 
as  in  the  higher  types ;  and  in  which  reproduction  is  the 
simple  process  of  growth  from  any  point  of  the  parent 
body.  "  The  lowest  type  of  vegetable  existence  is 
afforded  by  those  organisms  which  either  consist  of 
single  cells  or  of  aggregations  of  similar  cells,  each  of 
which  can  maintain  an  independent  existence,  living 
for  and  oy  itself,  and  not  needing  the  co-operation  of 
other  cells,  save  for  the  purpose  of  generation,  of  which 
the  reunion  of  the  contents  of  two  cells,  by  an  act  of 
'  conjugation,'  is  an  essential  condition.  Any  one  of 
these  cells  may  multiply  itself  indefinitely  by  subdivi- 
sion ;  but  those  products  are  all  mere  repetitions  of  one 
another,  and  often  detach  themselves  spontaneously,  so 
that  the  descendants  of  a  single  cell  may  cover  a  very 
extended  area,  as  is  the  case,  for  example,  with  the 
Protococcus  nivalis,  or  '  red  snow.'  There  is  here, 
therefore,  not  the  least  show  of  differentiation ;  no  spe- 
cial cells  being  set  apart,  even  for  the  performance  of 
the  generative  act.  *  *  In  the  simplest  forms  of 
this  thallus,  ('the  ulvas'),  we  do  not  meet  witli  the 
slightest  trace  of  differentiation ;  and  every  one  of  its 
component  cells  appears  to  live  as  much  for  and  by 
itself,  as  if  it  Avere  completely  detached  from  the  rest. 
Every  one  of  them,  moreover,  seems  able  to  multiply 
itself,  not  merely  by  subdivision,  but  also  by  the  emis- 
sion of  a  portion  of  its  contents,  inclosed  in  a  cell-wall, 
in  the  condition  of  a  '  spore,'  or  detached  gemma. 
*  *  *  In  the  next  stage  of  development,  the  differ- 
entiation of  parts  begins  to  manifest  itself  more  de- 
cidedly," more  especially  "in  the  limitation  of  the 
reproductive  act  to  particular  portions  of  the  organism, 
and  in  the  setting  apart  of  special  organs  for  its  per- 


THE    ORGANIC    ARGUMENT.  33 

formance."*  From  the  plants  of  these  lower  series  to 
the  most  complex  of  the  Digecea  there  is  a  long  scale 
of  distance,  filled  by  a  world  of  vegetable  forms,  which 
take  rank  according  to  the  differentiation  of  parts  they 
exhibit ;  in  other  words,  according  to  the  more  or  less 
elaborate  organization  which  the  measure  of  life  in 
them  employs  for  its  expression.  For  everywhere,  from 
the  meanest  of  the  Flora  to  the  highest  of  the  Fauna, 
it  is  a  question  simply  of  "  how  much"  of  life  ?  And 
the  quantity  is  infallibly  indicated  by  the  accommoda- 
tions we  find  it  in.  Nature  does  not  lodge  the  life  of 
an  oak  in  the  body  of  a  moss,  nor  that  of  an  elm  in  a 
road-side  thistle.  She  provides  a  fit  house  for  each 
guest ;  and  the  number  of  its  apartments,  (organs),  shows 
her  respect  for  the  lodger — or,  to  speak  with  more 
exactness,  she  sends  forth  each  life  clothed  with  full 
power  to  build  itself  precisely  the  mansion  it  needs. 

Look  now  at  the  Animal  World  in  the  light  of  these 
statements.  Underlying  the  lowest  of  the  four  great 
divisions  of  the  animal  kingdom,  there  is  a  lower  form 
of  animal  life  than  is  found  in  either — "  a  group,"  says 
Carpenter,  "which  cannot  be  regarded  as  presenting 
even  a  rudiment  of  the  plan  of  conformation  that  is 
characteristic  of  any  one  of  them,  and  in  which  scarcely 
any  differentiation  of  organs  is  to  be  discerned."  This 
group  is  termed  Protozoa,  and  is  so  low  in  its  manifest- 
ation as  to  have  been  reckoned,  indifferently,  in  the 
vegetable  and  animal  kingdom  by  writers,  according  to 
the  plan  of  classification  adopted  by  them.  They  are 
now  clearly  ranked  as  belonging  to  the  latter,  the  ani- 
mal character  being  proved  in  the  modes  of  nutrition, 
and  power  of  motion  of  one  part  upon  another,  and 


*  Carpenter,  pp.  52,  53. 
9* 


34  WOMAN    AND    HER    EKA. 

chemically,  by  the  presence  of  nitrogen,  detectable  by 
fire.  But  there  are  here  no  special  instruments  either 
for  sensation  or  motion.  As  every  part  of  the  body  is, 
or  may  rather  become,  equally  adapted  for  digestion, 
absorption,  respiration,  and  secretion,  so  does  every 
part  appear  equally  capable  of  receiving  impressions 
made  upon  it,  and  of  responding  to  them,  by  a  con- 
tractile movement.  "  A  large  proportion  of  the  Pro- 
tozoa consists  of  single  cells,  or  aggregations  of  cells,  in 
which  there  is  no  differentiation  of  character;  in  the 
lowest  forms  of  them  there  is  not  even  that  distinctness 
of  the  cell-wall  from  the  cell-contents,  which  exists  in 
every  completely  developed  cell,  but  the  whole  forms 
one  mass  of  living  jelly,"  in  which  organic  substances, 
previously  elaborated  by  other  beings,  are  enveloped, 
dissolved,  and  appropriated  for  its  nutriment. 

From  this  simplest  house  in  which  animal  life 
abides,  we  depart  upward,  through  the  great  kingdoms, 
the  populous  countries,  empires,  states ;  the  splendid 
cities  and  mansions  which  it  inhabits.  Even  in  the 
poorest  of  those  it  is  a  little  better  lodged  than  here. 
In  the  Radiata,  the  lowest  of  the  sub-kingdoms,  there 
are  large  families  which  exhibit  no  structural  marks  of 
a  nutritive  apparatus.  As  in  the  Protozoa,  all  parts  of 
the  organism  appear  to  be  alike  engaged  in  carrying 
it  on.  And  though  a  reproductive  system  is  differen- 
tiated in  nearly  all  the  groups  of  this  kingdom,  none  of 
its  members  set  life  forth  in  features  of  much  distinct 
ness.  In  the  next,  the  Mollusca,  an  apparatus  of  each 
of  these  functions  is  clearly  distinguishable,  everywhere 
above  the  very  lowest  members  ;  and  here  nerve-tissue 
makes  its  appearance,  in  a  persistent  ganglion — an 
interior  eye  of  consciousness — the  primordial  having 
advanced  that  length  on  the  road  to  the  high  summit 


THE   ORGANIC   ARGUMENT.  35 

of  utmost  differentiation.  In  the  Articnlata  we  have  a 
still  more  elaborate  structure,  not  only  of  the  mechan- 
ism of  these  great  primary  functions,  but  also  organs 
of  sensation  and  motion  of  a  far  nicer  and  more  com- 
plex character  than  have  before  appeared:  and  in  the 
Vertebrate,  "the  complete  differentiation  of  all  these 
structures  is  nearly  the  invariable  rule,"  says  the 
author  before  quoted. 

If  it  were  a  moot  question  whether  or  not  Nature 
operates  elevation  of  types  by  addition  of  powers,  or  if 
the  present  purpose  were  primarily  to  establish  its 
truth,  it  would  be  an  object  to  array  authorities  here. 
But  since  the  first  is  not  true,  and  since  the  single, 
simple  purpose  in  view  of  this  work,  is  the  application 
of  acknowledged  laws  in  determining  the  position  of 
Woman  in  the  scale  of  being,  it  would  be  superfluous 
to  distill  into  these  pages  the  opinions,  whether  con- 
flicting or  harmonious,  of  the  numerous  writers  on 
Comparative  Anatomy  and  Physiology.  Upon  the 
essential  force  of  the  great  law  which  illustrates  and 
sustains  the  first  term  of  my  syllogism,  there  is  entire 
unanimity  among  men  of  science.  They  differ  in  the 
form  of  its  statement,  but  agree  as  to  its  essence.  Cer- 
tain minor  facts  bearing  upon  it,  as  where  certain 
groups  belong,  may  be  matters  of  dispute,  but  the 
grand  design  sought  through  all,  is  seen  always  as  one. 
So  plain  is  its  character,  so  unanimous  the  agreement 
upon  it,  that  it  would  have  been  unnecessary  to  occupy 
time  in  the  brief  statements  already  made,  except  for 
two  reasons:  first,  that  the  Truths  herein  proved  are 
offered  for  the  acceptance  of  unprofessional  readers  of 
both  sexes,  and  second,  that  they  are  exposed,  by  their 
bearings,  to  assaults,  against  which  I  would  fortify 
them, for  the  benefit  of  those  who  need  to  find  Truth 


36  WOMAN    >\ND    HEK    ERA. 

an  impregnable  fortress  before  they  can  join  her  ser- 
vice. A  few  more  words  then  will  dispose  of  this  term  of 
our  statement. 

Taking  our  stand  by  the  primordial,  and  looking 
out  thence  broadly  to  life,  as  a  body  of  phenomena 
whose  function  it  is  to  express  all  the  powers  that  can 
be  embodied  in  finite  forms,  the  deduction  of  varied, 
compound  organisms  for  that  purpose  is  irresistible. 
Complexity  of  structure  for  the  service  of  variety  of 
function — numerous  organs,  instruments  of  numerous 
powers — these  present  the  sum  of  our  existing  know- 
ledge of  means  employed  by  Nature  to  carry  her  pri- 
mary types  toward  perfection.  We  are  to  regard 
Organization  as  a  means,  not  an  end :  as  the  clothing 
which  life  puts  on  that  it  may  have  adequate  expression 
in  a  material  world — the  medium  through  which  it  can 
receive  and  give — the  avenues  of  exchange,  few  or 
many,  narrow  or  broad,  between  it  and  surrounding 
life  and  matter.  Like  means,  like  end.  A  wind-harp 
may  be  made  of  a  single  thread,  but  if  the  harmonies 
of  sound  are  to  be  reported  to  us,  we  must  have  many 
and  various  strings.  A  shining  butterfly  or  even  a 
crawling  worm,  may  suffice  to  give  us  a  certain  range 
of  ideas  of  vital  color,  motion,  and  sensation ;  but  if  we 
would  know  these  in  their  fullness,  we  must  look  to 
creatures  of  more  complex  structure  than  butterfly  or 
worm.  Thus  then  stands  our  argument.  The  sim- 
plest form  of  matter  is  the  Elemental,  the  Inorganic. 
En  the  first  union  which  life  makes  with  it,  matter  is 
but  little  elevated  by  the  conjunction — but  a  single 
step  removed  from  its  primary  condition.  It  is  clothed 
in  the  organic  form  that  will  barely  enable  the  indi- 
vidual to  take  nutriment  and  perform  the  office  of  con- 
tinuing its  species.     But  in  the  lowest  Algae,  Lichen;, 


THE    OKOAN1C    ABGDMENT.  37 

and  Fungi,  neither  of  these  functions  is  furnished  with 
a  special  apparatus  for  its  performance  :  in  other  words 
is  powerful,  nice,  individual  enough  to  have  elaborated 
for  itself, out  of  the  low  mass  in  which  it  resides,  a  spe- 
cial instrument  or  set  of  instruments  for  its  use.  And 
the  same  is  true,  as  we  have  seen,  even  in  this  passing 
glance  at  the  animal  kingdom,  of  its  lowest  members. 
Kow  how  is  matter  raised  above  these  simplest,  lowest 
organic  forms  %  How  does  life,  of  which  matter  is  but 
the  servant,  attain  to  more  varied,  dignified,  powerful 
expression  ? 

By  the  modus,  it  would  seem,  of  action  and  re-action : 
Life,  by  its  presence  and  influence,  refining  and  ele- 
vating matter  ;  matter,  thus  improved,  taking  on  more 
varied  and  complete  systems  of  service :  Life  demand- 
ing more  as  it  feels  its  growing  power  over  the  infe- 
rior ;  matter  responding  to  the  demand  as  it  is  made 
nobler  by  the  union.  Here  then  is  the  career  opened 
of  this  sublime  relation.  Here  are  the  first  links  in 
that  long  chain  of  material  forms,  which,  binding  life 
about  the  globe,  has  a  Highest  somewhere.  That  High- 
est, if  we  have  discerned  the  law  at  all,  will  be  found 
to  be  the  creature  in  whom  Life  is  the  sum  of  the 
largest  number  of  separate  powers,  (functions),  and 
Organization  is  the  total  of  the  greatest  number  of 
complete  instruments,  (organs),  for  the  use  of  these 
powers. 

Let  us  now  see  whether  this  being  is  or  not,  accord- 
ing to  the  second  term  of  our  statement,  Woman. 

Three  leading  features  arise  out  from  among  the 
many  that  might  be  presented  in  the  argument  on  this 
premise:  First,  the  broad  testimony  of  human  Physi- 
ology ;  next,  that  deducible  from  the  nerve-endowments 
of  the  feminine  life ;  and  lastly,  that  which  takes  cog- 


38  WOMAU    A^rD    HEK    Eli  A. 

nizance  of  Rudimentary  Organs  and  their  significance. 
I  shall  deal  with  them  in  their  order. 

I.  Physiology  is  an  exposition  of  the  powers  of 
living  beings ;  of  their  relations  to  the  organic  bodies 
which  they  inhabit  and  to  those  which  surround  them. 
Universal  Physiology  includes  the  special  branches 
which  treat  of  vegetable  life  and  animal  life.  This 
latter  is  further  subdivided  into  Animal  and  Human 
Physiology,  and  the  latter  again  into  Masculine  and 
Feminine  Physiology. 

Physiological  equality  is  not  predicable  of  any  two 
types  of  living  beings  on  the  earth.  Neither  is  it  pre- 
dicable of  any  two  grades — a  distinction  marked  with 
a  less  difference  than  that  which  separates  types — the 
very  term  grade  implying  that  one  is  carried  above  the 
other  on  the  scale  of  development.  The  human  type 
crowns  the  living  creation  on  our  globe.  It  is  a  type 
steadily  worked  up  to,  through  all  the  forms  between  it 
and  the  primary  cell.  And  it  occupies  this  high  place 
by  reason  of  uniting  the  most  affluent,  varied,  com- 
plex functional  life  to  the  most  compound  organization. 
It  is  the  Ideal  type  of  the  Earth's  Physiology,  because 
of  this  wealth  of  its  functional  and  organic  endow- 
ments. It  is  a  proud,  exclusive  type,  embracing  only 
its  two  sexes.  And  our  whole  case  for  Woman  rests 
upon  the  questions  whether  or  not  these  two  sexes  are 
also  two  grades  of  development,  and,  it  being  estab- 
lished that  they  are,  then  finally,  whether  or  not  she  is 
the  higher. 

What  is  a  grade  of  development?  Evidently  it  is 
a  difference  of  development,  whatever  else  it  may  or 
may  not  be.  More,  it  is  a  difference  of  physiological 
quantity,  the  term,  as  has  been  said,  implying  more 
and  less,  higher  and  lower.     Xow  more  means  here,  as 


THE    ORGANIC   ARGUMENT.  6V 

we  know,  tlie  expression  of  an  added  function  or  func- 
tions, through  the  instrumentality  of  an  added  organ 
or  organs.  Let  us  then  look  at  the  human  Masculine 
and  Feminine  by  the  light  of  these  definitions. 

The  broad  kingdom  of  Human  Life  and  Organiza- 
tion is  common  to  the  Masculine  and  Feminine.  In 
the  Functions  and  Organs  to  which  the  preservation 
and  welfare  of  the  individual  are  intrusted,  their 
endowments  are  numerically  balanced.  Thus  the  Nu- 
tritive function  in  each  is  compounded  of  an  equal 
number  of  more  special  functions,  and  employs  an 
equally  elaborate  apparatus  of  viscera,  vessels,  and 
tissues  of  every  sort.  The  Respiratory  and  Circulatory 
functions  have  the  like  balanced  character  and  service; 
so  also  have  those  of  Secretion,  Exhalation,  Absorp- 
tion, and  Deposition.  In  all  these  respects,  the  differ- 
ences between  masculine  and  feminine  are  differences 
of  relative  proportion,  not  of  primary  powers  ;  of  degrees 
of  relative  capacity,  but  never  of  kinds  of  capacity, 
Man  possessing  all  that  Woman  does,  some  in  greater, 
some  in  less  measure  ;  Woman  all  that  Man  does,  with, 
of  course,  the  like  qualifications.  Thus  Human  Anato- 
my and  Physiology  can  be  studied  from  the  Masculine 
and  Feminine  almost  indifferently  well,  up  to  the  lim- 
its of  those  functions  and  organs  which  serve  and  con- 
cern the  individual  supremely.  The  divergence  is 
established  where  the  Function  which  clothes  them 
with  the  most  Godlike  of  their  powers,  that  of  creators 
of  their  race,  comes  into  the  scale  of  endowments,  and 
henceforward  we  must  study  each  for  the  knowledge 
of  its  sex,  and  of  the  characteristic  powers  and  respon- 
sibilities belonging  to  it. 

It  is  plain  now,  if  we  have  discerned  Nature's  pur- 
pose in  the  previous  inquiries,  that  the  sexes  will  orove 


40  WOMAN    AND    HER    EEA. 

to  be  grades  of  development,  only  by  proving  to  be 
quantitatively  different  beyond  this  line  of  common 
development.  There  are  the  strictly  masculine  and 
feminine  functions  and  organs,  in  which,  according  to 
the  nicest  investigations  which  Anatomy  and  Physi- 
ology have  yet  made,  they  balance  each  other,  part  for 
part,  in  furnishing  the  elements  for  that  union,  whose 
sublime  result  is  to  be  an  embodied,  immortal,  conscious 
life. 

When  this  union  takes  place  there  is  immediately 
required  a  fit  place  for  the  protection  of  those  plastic 
elements ;  there  are  at  once  employed  upon  them,  func- 
tions which  have  no  other  employment  in  all  the  wide 
economy  of  life — powers,  which  here,  and  here  only, 
find  their  expression  and  use.  It  need  not  be  said  that 
this  sacred  repository ;  this  unique,  interior,  separating 
organ,  belongs  to  the  feminine,  with  all  the  powers  of 
every  sort,  capacities,  susceptibilities,  emotions  that  go 
with  it,  and  make  up  its  super-organic  domain.  Xor  is 
this  the  place  to  offer  more  than  a  mere  suggestion,  a 
hint,  of  the  expansion  of  the  whole  nature  which  its 
presence  confers  on  the  feminine.  Say  that  the  parts 
of  each  are  balanced  up  to  the  moment  when  mascu- 
line and  feminine  surrender  their  respective  tributes 
— say,  if  you  please,  that  that  of  the  masculine  is  the 
leading  part — though  there  is  not,  in  all  the  investiga- 
tions that  Science  has  yet  achieved,  a  jot  or  tittle  of 
evidence  to  this  effect,  and  somewhat,  as  we  shall 
shortly  see,  looking  to  the  opposite  view — yet  grant 
that  it  is  foremost  in  importance  up  to  this  moment  of 
conjunction,  how  different,  henceforth,  is  the  relation 
of  each  to  the  future  beino>  !  How  embracing,  how 
close,  how  inseparable,  how  interfused  is  the  one  life  ; 
how  detached,  separated,  excluded,  removed  the  other; 


THE    ORGANIC    ARGUMENT.  41 

walking  its  wide, devious  ways  on  the  earth; perhaps 
leaving  it  by  death,  unconscious  even  that  the  life- 
forces  have  appropriated  anything  from  it  toward 
another  being;  always  physiologically  indifferent 
whether  it  be  so  or  not,  and  capable  of  being  emotion- 
ally and  morally  so  likewise.  To  the  masculine,  parent- 
age is  an  incident ;  it  may  be  much  or  nothing, 
according  to  the  accidents,  tendencies,  and  develop-  , 
ment  of  the  life.  To  the  feminine,  it  is  being  set  apart 
by  Nature  to  a  sacred  trust, which  can  be  violated  only 
at  tremendous  peril — peril  to  the  moral  and  physical 
welfare  both  of  itself  and  the  coming  life :  peril  pro- 
portioned to  the  awful  magnitude  of  the  responsibility, 
and  to  the  divine  demands  it  makes  upon  the  nature ; 
in  whose  innermost  deeps  of  soul  and  body,  a  life  is 
deposited  to  draw  thence,  by  God's  edict,  support, 
form,  power,  expression  ;  to  whom  a  soul  is  given  to 
be  individualized  in  some  garb  of  flesh — a  spirit  to  be 
started  on  the  endless  road  of  the  eternities. 

And  again,  when  this  life  has  received  thence  what 
is  its  due,  (or  what  it  can  get),  and  comes  forth  into  the 
external  world  to  take  its  place  there,  it  is  not  yet  supe- 
rior to  the  relation  of  personal  dependence  on  that 
which  has  cherished  and  built  it  up  thus  far.  Yet 
another  function  must  serve  it — another  organ,  of  a 
fine,  complicated,  exquisitely  sensitive  mechanism, 
must  be  employed  in  its  behalf.  It  must  still  live  by 
the  mother, scarcely  less  than  in  its  ante-natal  period. 
And  hence  her  organic  life  is  again  enlarged  by  the 
addition  of  the  mammary  gland,  a  structure  which  is 
balanced  by  nothing  in  the  Anatomy  of  Man,  and  her 
functional  life  by  the  capacity  of  lactation,  a  power  to 
which  there  is  no  equivalent  among  the  normal  mascu- 
line capacities. 


42  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

It  is  clear  then  that  sex  is  a  grade  of  development  • 
and  that  the  Feminine  exceeds  the  Masculine  by  the 
differentiation  of  two  organs  more  than  the  latter  em- 
ploys— organs  of  vastly  complicated  relations,  and 
exquisite  sensibilities — organs  which  are  intrusted  with 
the  momentous  offices  of  the  ante-natal  creation,  and 
post-natal  nurture, of  the  race.  These  may  be  termed 
the  Superior-Maternal  System,  in  contradistinction  to 
those  organs  and  functions  of  the  reproductive  system 
which,  in  the  feminine,  are  balanced  by  their  equiva- 
lents in  the  masculine.  They  are  two  steps  taken  by 
the  feminine,  under  the  law  of  differentiation,  of  which 
the  masculine  stops  short.  And  whether  Maternity, 
(which  function,  as  to  its  origin,  partakes  of  the  volun- 
tary character),  is  performed  or  not,  in  any  individual 
case,  the  organs  testify  the  presence  of,  capacities  and 
qualities  in  the  feminine  which  the  masculine  knows 
not. 

Thus  the  plus  of  powers,  sensibilities,  emotions, 
experiences,  and  possibilities,  either  in  happiness  or 
suffering,  is  hers,  not  his.  And,  without  fullness  of 
action  in  this  system  of  organs,  there  is  an  action  which 
establishes  Womanhood — a  function  anticipative  of 
Maternity,  first  movement  of  the  Superior-Maternal 
System,  which  the  masculine  balances  by  no  phenome- 
non of  its  vital  circuit.  This  unique  function  separates 
the  Ante-Maternal  from  the  Ante-Paternal  period  by 
a  world  of  fine  susceptibilities,  emotions,  affections, 
yearnings,  which  transcend,  as  intellectual  power  does 
mere  knowledge,  or  as  moral  purpose  mere  intellect, 
the  limits  of  self-enjoyment  which  bound  the  horizon 
of  the  masculine.  It  is  the  open  window  of  the  femi- 
nine soul^  affording  its  longest  and  divinest  outlook 
beyond  self  and  the  present,  into  the  wide,  vague  world 


THE    ORGANIC    ARGUMENT.  43 

of  life  and  happiness  to  which,  through  love,  it  aspires 
or  yearns  to  contribute ;  indifferent  in  its  highest  mo- 
ments, whether  it  be  through  martyrdom  or  ineffable 

joy  that  it  gives  itself,  so  bnt  the  gift  be  made.  Here 
is  the  first  separating  step  between  it  and  the  mascu- 
line. It  has  entered  here  a  kingdom  of  its  own,  set 
apart,  lifted  up,  sacred  to  itself,  whose  sweet  atmo- 
spheres bathe  soul  and  sense  in  a  new  light  and  warmth ; 
whose  pure,  up-soaring  harmonies  set  the  pulses  to  a 
new  measure  ;  whose  dim,  far-seen,  but  shining  hori- 
zon, melting  into  the  circle  of  heavenly  maternal  love, 
invites  the  timid  heart  along  the  road  full  of  new  and 
startling  mysteries.  Here  sweeter  ardors  take  possession 
of  the  soul ;  Faith  lights  the  inner  fires  that  have  lain 
unkindled  through  all  the  gay  years  of  infancy  and 
childhood — the  Ideal  opens  its  jasper  doors  to  the 
yearning  eye — all  the  mountain  peaks,  that  were  before 
shrouded,  shine  out  in  the  new-descending  light,  and 
life  is  aglow  with  bright — it  may  be  shifting — realities 
and  intense  hopes.  The  light  foot  falters  as  it  treads 
along  the  new  paths,  but  turns  not  back  for  any  reve- 
lation they  make.  For  high  courage,  as  well  as  lofty 
faith,  come  more  and  more  into  the  spirit  as  womanly 
experience  herein  broadens  and  knits  more  firmly  the 
web  of  its  relations.  But  here  the  feminine  must  walk 
alone.  No  brother,  however  beloved,  can  come  in 
hither;  no  father,  however  cherished  and  cherishing, 
can  set  foot  of  companionship  within  the  lines  of  this 
sacred  circle  of  experience.  It  is  only  as  a  spectator 
and  a  student  that  man  can  approach  hither — only  as 
a  learner,  a  worshiper,  or  a  profaner,  that  he  can  lift 
his  eyes  to  this  inner  kingdom,  lying  above  his  own 
consciousness,  and  compact  of  mysteries,  impenetrable 
to  him.     For  his  intellect  can  only  take  cognizance  of 


4A  WOMAN   AND    HER    ERA. 

the  facts, which  are  but  the  "signs  and  shows"  of  the 
spiritual  realities  which  they  subtend. 

Whatever  may  be  claimed  or  denied,  through  the 
intellectual  speculations  of  man,for  this  periodic  action 
of  the  Superior-Maternal  system,  this  is  clear  to  all 
womankind,  that  through  it,  Nature  gives  her  first 
lesson  to  the  emotional  and  affectional  life  of  the  neo- 
phyte. Motherhood  is  the  Ideal  State  of  Womanhood 
to  every  female  not  arrived  there — the  ante-functional 
life  of  little  girlhood,  nay,  even  of  infancy,  declaring 
the  presence  of  this  divine  passion.  It  is  so,  not  because 
of  one  phenomenon  in  the  feminine  life — not  because 
of  any  fact  or  set  of  facts,  however  momentous,  in  the 
physiological  circuit  of  the  feminine,  but  because  of  that 
circle  of  forces,  which  sphere  every  life  and  focalize  it 
as  its  own  true  center.  Woman  must  yearn  for  Mother- 
hood because  she  is  Woman.  Before  it  is  reached,  the 
bow  of  her  Ideal  plants  its  farthest  foot  there  and 
leads  unwaveringly  to  it.  Next  it  springs  across  the 
Great  Yalley,  and  bends  down  into  Heaven,  whither, 
when  she  has  them,  she  would  take  all  her  children. 

Physiologically,  whatever  may  be  claimed  or  denied 
touching  this  office,  (the  periodic  action),  whatever 
mystery  shrouds  it  from  the  masculine  spectator,  making 
of  his  wisdom  foolishness  when  he  would  expound  it, 
Woman  realizes  at  least  this,  that  it  proceeds  from  a  law 
of  order  in  the  economy  of  her  life,  replacing  the  license 
of  mere  waste  in  the  masculine,  and  feels,  according  to 
her  knowledge,  be  it  intellectual  or  intuitive,  that  it 
testifies  a  certain  sacredness  and  value  in  her  resources, 
as  distinguished  from  the  vulgarity  and  commonness 
which  place  those  of  the  masculine  at  the  ever  ready 
disposal  of  mere  sense.  And  it  is  further  plain  to  her 
consciousness,  that  this  function  has  the  finer  office  of 


THE    ORGANIC    ARGUMENT.  45 

renewing  the  most  occult  forces  of  her  life.  Nervous 
equilibrium  is  restored  by  it ;  harmony  between  the 
will  and  the  affections,  between  judgment  and  impulse. 
Maternal  love  springs  afresh  from  its  deepest  sources, 
illuminating  all  it  shines  upon.  The  powers  wearied, 
jarred,  dislocated  it  may  be  in  the  tug  and  strain  of 
life's  battle,  dip  afresh  in  the  strong,  pure  flood-tide  of 
the  susceptibilities,  and  she  who  was  worn,  impatient, 
irritable,  body  and  spirit-sore,  under  her  burthens, 
comes  out  refreshed,  harmonized,  fitted  anew  for  her 
labors  and  responsibilities.  How  wise,  how  beneficent, 
how  significant  of  the  momentousness  of  Maternity, 
that  it  should  originate  now,  in  this  period  of  strength, 
and  exaltation  of  the  better  life!  Does  it  not  seem 
that  Nature  here  sets  upon  it  her  seal  of  sacredness? 
She  honors  paternity  by  no  such  preparation  for  it.  It 
is  left  alike  to  the  lowest  as  to  the  highest  hour.  Not 
that  even  unintelligent  persons  can  feel  low  and  high 
to  be  alike  good,  or  can  fail  to  see  in  paternity  the 
highest  of  man's  opportunities  for  obedience  and  faith- 
fulness to  the  divinest  law  of  his  life.  But  this  also  is 
equally  Woman's,  independent  of  the  involuntary  pre- 
paration. Nature  works  with  her,  at  the  very  least,  in 
an  equal  measure  as  with  man,  and  for  her,  in  a  way 
that  is  all  her  own. 

And  here  perhaps,  as  well  as  anywhere,  may  be 
offered  what  I  have  to  say  respecting  the  comparative 
value,  as  a  determining  force  in  the  nature  of  offspring, 
of  the  Masculine  and  Feminine.  Not  a  digest  of  the 
observations,  speculations,  and  assertions  of  writers  on 
this  perplexing  question.  Suffice  to  say  that  in  no  de- 
partment of  inquiry  are  known  results  more  varied, 
contradictory,  confused,  and  confusing ;  nowhere  is 
assertion   more   positive ;    denial   by   the    succeeding 


46  WOMAN    AXD    HER    ERA. 

authority  more  flat.  Nowhere,  out  of  the  laboratory 
and  the  metallurgist's  cabinet,  has  experiment  been 
more  nicely,  patiently,  and  diligently  conducted,  to 
lead  to  such  pitiful  result — 0  representing  to-day  pretty 
fairly,  the  sum  of  our  actual  knowledge  of  law  herein. 
Were  I  to  give  the  bare  names  of  able,  earnest  in- 
quirers, I  should  spread  a  catalogue  that  would  surprise 
the  uninstructed  reader — were  I  to  attempt  the  most 
meaner  digest  of  their  labors  and  the  conclusions  at- 
tained,  I  might  at  once  abandon  all  other  branches  of 
my  subject,  since  the  utmost  limits  I  propose  would 
scarce  suffice  for  these — worse  still,  I  should  swamp 
my  readers,  with  myself,  in  a  wide  sea  of  contradic- 
tions, theories  and  counter-theories,  observations  and 
counter-observations,  for  which  I  much  prefer  sending 
him  or  her  to  the  original  books  wherein  they  are 
recorded. 

One  word  is  due,  however,  in  passing,  to  the  causes 
which  have  made  these  labors  so  barren  of  actual 
result. 

What  could  have  withheld  from  the  clear  sight  of 
Yicq  d'Azyr,  Eazaringues,  St.%  Iiilaire ;  the  roving 
vision  of  Lucas ;  the  insight  of  Gall,  Spurzheim,  the 
Combes ;  the  study  of  Moreau,  Orton,  Owen,  Huxley ; 
the  wondrous  patience  of  the  great  German  school ;  the 
critical  watchfulness  of  the  Italian,  not  to  mention  the 
great  names  of  the  earlier  ages,  the  object  of  their 
study— seeing  that  it  is  a  real  object,  and  must  often, 
in  their  direct  and  collateral  labors,  have  lain  so  very 
near  their  hands? 

There  are,  it  seems  to  me,  two  causes  which  have 
hindered,  and  which  will,  so  long  as  they  exist,  con- 
tinue to  hinder  the  discovery  of  this  inestimably  grave 
law.     First,  men  have  generally  studied  this  question 


THE    ORGANIC    ARGUMENT.  47 

as  if  all  its  essential  elements  were,  a  force  on  one  side 
and  a  simple  instrument  or  medium  on  the  other; 
second,  they  have  tacitly,  if  not  avowedly,  gone  to  the 
inferior  animals  for  the  revelation  of  the  law  which 
governs  results  in  the  human  world.  Let  me  not  be 
understood  as  undervaluing  the  labors  I  speak  of.  Far 
from  it.  A  great  deal  has  undeniably  been  learned 
through  them,  but  not  that  which  was  sought ;  for  it  is 
equally  undeniable  that  nobody  vet  states  the  law  on 
the  question  now  before  us,  even  as  respecting  the 
brute  animals — still  less  then  can  we  expect  to  find  in 
the  conclusions  reached,  the  ultimate  law,  according  to 
which  formative  forces  are  employed  in  human  pater- 
nity and  maternity. 

And  it  is  because  of  the  lack  of  right  method  im- 
plied in  the  first  of  these  reasons,  that  it  seems  expedi- 
ent and  not  uncandid  to  pass  by  all  these  inquiries  to 
such  truths,  deductions,  and  suggestions  as  I  am  able 
to  offer,  on  grounds  either  wholly  rejected  or  but  little 
considered  by  the  inquirers,  leaving  them  for  my  reader 
to  seek,  and  receive  or  reject,  according  as  he  is  moved 
by  their  own  merits. 

It  is  fit  to  say  here,  once  for  all,  that  laws  which 
govern  the  animal  kingdom  below  the  human,  can  no 
more  be  accepted  as  final  and  determining  to  man,  in 
physiological,  than  in  intellectual  and  moral,  action. 
Human  life  furnishes,  above  what  is  common  to  it  and 
the  inferior  kingdoms,  its  own  transcendent,  separating 
premises,  which  must  necessarily  lead  it  to  Like  tran- 
scendent, separating  results. 

The  induction  has  been  sought  to  be  established  for 
the  masculine,  that  it  holds,  in  the  parental  ofiice,  a 
determining,  overruling  power,  as  it  has  unquestiona- 
bly held  such  an  one  in  nearly  all  the  other  depart- 


48  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

ments  of  human  life  to  which  the  race  has  yet  risen. 
And  though  some  observers  have  gathered  facts  which 
seem  to  demonstrate  the  opposite  theory,  yet  it  must 
be  confessed  that  by  far  the  larger  induction  yet  made 
leaves  the  question  still  open,  with  a  leaning  of  the 
balance  toward  the  masculine  side.  This  is  especially 
true  of  observations  upon  animals,  perhaps  also  of  those 
upon  Man  thus  far. 

I  do  not  look  to  induction  to  clear  this  point  up  for 
us,  except  we  first  take  our  stand  by  the  primary  law 
of  Nature — the  point  of  deduction.  Only  this  vantage- 
ground  in  so  vast  a  field,  with  such  an  infinite  variety 
of  facts  to  be  classed,  can  help  us  to  clear,  true  induc- 
tive work  here.  Elsewhere,  after  more  extended  state- 
ments of  the  argument  for  the  superiority  of  the  femi- 
nine have  been  made,  I  shall  present  the  deductions, 
to  which  we  shall  then  be  entitled  in  its  behalf,  in  this 
special  office.  Here  it  must  suffice  to  hint,  that  the 
more  affluent  functional  life  strongly  suggests  that  in 
its  own  crowning  office  it  cannot  be  second  to  an  infe- 
rior function al  life. 

Manifestly  the  inferior  powers  are  means  to  the 
end  of  perfection  in  the  highest :  the  more  functions 
the  higher  is  that  which  crowns  all,  and  the  greater 
the  power  in  it ;  because,  the  larger  the  functional 
quantity,  aud  the  broader  the  relations  with  the  univer- 
sal power  and  life,  the  broader  the  capacities  to  appro- 
priate and  embody,  in  a  higher  degree  and  form, 
whatever  belongs  to  life.  How,  therefore,  can  we 
suppose  that  being  who  stands  at  the  head  of  the  func- 
tional scale  to  be  second  to  one  below,  in  the  most 
divine  of  all  the  offices  conferred  on  it  ?  Nature  does 
not  so  work  in  other  departments  of  her  operations.  Is 
it  likely  that  she  would  forsake  her  plan  here,  at  the 


THE    ORGANIC    ARGUMENT.  49 

very  highest  point  in  her  visible  scheme,  where  she 
employs  every  kind  of  power  in  the  very  largest  mea- 
sure, for  a  result  to  which  all  other  results  contribute  ? 
Moreover,  even  in  our  human  order,  the  controlling 
influence  in  a  copartnership,  is  his  who  makes  the  most 
important  contribution  to  its  ends.  Whichever  of  the 
two  partners  in  this  office  gives  the  most  essential  ele- 
ment, ought  to  be  intrusted  with  the  less  essential. 
A  reverse  proceeding  would  exhibit  the  strange  specta- 
cle of  a  life  carried  to  the  highest  grade  of  development, 
the  most  exquisite  perfection,  not  only  for  its  own 
greatness  and  goodness,  but  as  a  means  to  the  divinest 
discharge  of  the  most  exalted  office,  being  called  upon 
to  surrender  its  means,  in  that  office,  to  the  custody 
and  control  of  an  inferior — to  put  them  away  from  and 
quite  beyond  itself — beyond  any  but  an  indirect  con- 
trol, which,  at  the  mercy  of  circumstance  or  the  will 
of  that  other,  may  be  wholly  cut  off  or  destroyed  at  any 
period  in  the  progress  of  the  work.  We  rarely  find  the 
wisdom  of  men  suffering  them  to  fall  into  such  absurdi- 
ties. How  then  shall  we  suppose  it  of  Xature,  who  is 
ever  wise,  harmonious,  and  steady  of  purpose  ? 

Again,  on  the  hypothesis  of  the  superiority  of  the 
masculine  element,  we  ought  to  find  the  truest  Mater- 
nity in  those  women  who  act  with  the  least  individual 
power  upon  the  element  received  by  them.  The  high- 
est ought  not  to  be  invaded  by  the  forces  of  the  inferior 
nature.  In  the  hands  of  the  inferior  it  should  remain 
intact,  whole,  self-exclusive  as  against  every  possible 
approach,  save  of  those  forces  which  are  indispensable 
to  give  it  organic  form  and  life.  Individuality  of  cha- 
racter in  Woman  would  then  be  a  calamity  to  her 
offspring,  since  it  would  be  the  development  and  con- 
sequent  employment    of  forces   and   activities  which 


50  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

must  necessarily  jeopardize  the  complete  preservation 
and  protection,  against  herself,  of  means  intrusted  to 
her  for  a  momentous  result,  in  which,  if  she  is  second 
at  first,  she  ought  necessarily  to  be  second  last,  and  all 
,  the  time.  We  ought  therefore  to  find  the  truest  Ma- 
ternity, i.  e.,  that  which  most  efficiently  and  harmoni- 
ously advances  human  well-being,  among  the  most 
neutral  women.  These,  individually,  would  be  the 
healthy,  normal  nobodies  of  civilization,  and  among 
nations,  the  sound,  undeveloped,  impersonal  women 
of  the  savage  and  barbarous  races — which  is  absurd. 

If  the  views  here  advanced  look  in  the  right  direc- 
tion, (and  of  that  I  cannot  entertain  so  much  as  the 
shadow  of  a  doubt,  since  they  are  deductions  from  Na- 
ture's primal  truth  of  the  sexes),  this  claim  for  the 
masculine  is  destined  to  vanish  at  no  distant  day.  And 
this  no  less  though  it  has  received  from  the  more  per- 
fect investigations  of  modern  Science,  some  of  its  very 
strongest  support.  For  neither  the  knife  of  the  anato- 
mist, nor  the  lens  of  the  microscopist,  are  infallible 
interpreters  of  function.  We  do  not  possess  ourselves 
of  all  of  Nature's  secrets  by  cutting  up  her  tissues  and 
fabrics,  neither  by  the  keenest  inspection  of  their  ulti- 
mate atoms,  whether  fluid  or  solid.  There  are  some 
truths  withheld  from  the  investigator,  however  brave, 
patient,  and  nice  his  methods  and  means,  which  are 
given  up,  in  due  time,  to  the  Truth-seer,  without  any 
method  or  means,  save  the  intuitive  faculty  and  its 
unambitious,  guileless  surrender  to  the  service  offered 
it.  Such,  it  is  at  least  possible,  we  may  find  has  been 
Nature's  dealing  in  this  occult  department.  And  since 
we  have  yet  to  learn  her  secret  purpose  here,  and 
hence  are  honorably  bound  to  give  courteous  hearing 
to  any  reverently-spoken  word  that  asks  for  or  hints 


THE    ORGANIC    ARGUMENT.  51 

at  light,  I  shall  offer  for  the  reader's  consideration  the 
following  suggestions,  with  which  I  have  been  favored 
by  a  student  of  Nature,  who  unites  the  intuitive  faculty 
with  the  exact  method,  in  a  measure  rarely  equaled. 

"  My  opinion,"  says  Dr.  J.  W.  Eedfield,  "  is,  that 
the  female  holds  in  her  ovum  the  entire  living  germ 
of  the  future  offspring.  All  that  the  male  does,  if  this 
opinion  be  correct,  is  to  supply  the  food  which  that 
germ  requires  to  start  it  into  life.  This  must  needs  be 
the  most  exciting,  stimulating,  vitalizing,  and  nutri- 
tious that  Nature  can  furnish.  For  the  germ  is  dor- 
mant, it  has  no  active  life,  and  therefore  no  lively 
sensibilities;  it  makes  no  demand,  and  is  incapable  of 
appreciating  any  ordinary  stimulation.  The  first  food 
mast  also  supply  the  life  corresponding  to  that  first 
awakened  in  the  germ,  and  the  elements  of  the  organs 
first  developed.  What  man  supplies  answers  to  this 
requisition.  The  first  developed  life  in  the  ovum  is 
the  nervous,  and  the  first  organization  is  that  of  the 
brain  and  nervous  system.  The  food  which  supplies 
this  is  a  living,  active  animalcule,  that  looks  as  if  it 
were  a  mere  nervous  ganglion  and  spinal  cord.  The 
vitality  is  all  there,  and  active,  and  the  elements  are 
precisely  what  the  first  organization  requires. 

"  Besides  this  argument  of  the  relation  between  the 
needs  of  the  germ,  and  what  is  furnished  by  the  male, 
it  is  an  analogy,  that  the  father  stands  to  the  mother 
and  her  offspring  in  the  character  of  a  provider.  It  is 
the  office  of  the  father  to  provide  for  the  mother  di- 
rectly, and  for  the  child  indirectly,  through  her.  More 
than  this  :  the  first  supply  of  the  germ,  as  we  have 
described  it,  is  the  first  of  a  series  of  manifestations  of 
a  loin,  which,  if  established,  must  carry  the  strongest 
weight  of  argument  with  it.    The  first  food  of  the  new 


52  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

being  is  the  most  concentrated,  nutritions,  and  stimu- 
lating, possible,  as  we  have  described.  The  second  is 
pure  blood  from  the  mother's  own  lungs  and  heart,  and 
is  a  little  less  nutritious  and  stimulating  than  the 
spermatozoa.  The  third  is  milk,  which  contains  the 
proximate  principles  of  the  blood  and  the  elements  of 
the  organization  in  their  proper  proportions,  and  is 
little  less  than  blood  divested  of  its  red  coloring  matter. 
The  fourth  is  properly  the  most  nutritious,  soft,  animal 
and  vegetable  food,  containing  little  of  residuum,  or  of 
that  which  breeds  worms  and  intestinal  disturbances. 
And  lastly,  coarse  and  slightly  nutritious  food  suits  the 
farthest  departure  from  the  germinal  condition. 

"  That  the  semen  acts  as  food  to  the  natural  capaci- 
ties, and  probably  as  food  to  the  germ,  in  which  the 
power  of  Maternity  is  concentrated,  is  evident  from 
this  fact,  namely,  that  the  bee  larvae,  which  of  them- 
selves grow  into  sterile  females,  are  developed  into 
queens  by  being  fed  on  pollen,  the  male  fructifier  of 
plants.  The  pollen  must  render  the  seed  of  its  proper 
plant  fruitful  on  the  same  principle  that  it  does  the 
bee ;  and  as  it  is  not  a  germ,  producing  its  like,  in  the 
insect,  neither  is  it  in  the  vegetable.  It  is  certainly 
food  to  the  bee,  and  produces  the  effect,  to  a  certain 
extent,  that  the  sperm  does,  and  the  inference  is,  that 
both  it  and  the  sperm  are  food  to  the  germs  which  they 
are  the  means  of  developing. 

"What  makes  children* like  their  fathers  is  a  differ- 
ent principle  entirely  from  that  of  generation,  which  I 
suppose  rests  with  their  mother.  It  is  the  impression, 
if  I  mistake  not,  made  on  the  mother  psychologically, 
and  through  the  medium  of  the  nervous  sensibility, 
which  is  exceeding,  in  such  a  relation  of  the  sexes.  If 
the  sudden  presence  of  a  man  with  club-feet  can  cause 


THE    OliGA^IC    AliGLMEAT.  53 

club-feet  in  an  infant  from  the  fourth  month,  is  it  any- 
thing strange  that  the  father  should  l  stain})  hie  image' 
on  the  fruit  of  the  womb?  Neither  in  this  nor  in  the 
material  supplied,  has  the  father  anything  to  do  with 
the  offspring  directly.  It  is  the  office  of  the  male, 
simply  to  prepare  the  female  for  maternity,  and  all  the 
functions  of  parentage,  in  the  sense  of  generation,  de- 
volve on  her.  Anything  that  he  can  do  directly,  for 
the  child,  diminishes  in  the  exact  degree  that  it  ap- 
proaches the  earliest  stage  of  the  child's  existence.  But 
the  influence  he  is  able  to  exert  through  the  mother,  is 
much  greater  than  he  is  able  to  exert  directly,  and  it 
diminishes  from  the  conception  to  the  maturity  of  the 
offspring." 

One  word  more  and  we  will  pass  this  question  by 
in  its  present  connection  with  our  subject,  to  return  to 
it  at  a  future  time.  With  less  disposition  to  assert, 
than  to  hint  or  to  inquire,  I  suggest  that  it  appears 
evident  that  when  the  animal  is  the  leading  character 
of  the  type,  whether  the  species  be  brute  or  human, 
the  masculine  will  (ceteris  paribus)  predominate  in 
Reproduction.  This  at  least  seems  to  be  the  testimony 
of  the  lower  brutes  and  of  the  inferior  races  and  classes 
of  mankind,  and  the  reverse  appears  to  be  true  wherever 
nerve-life  is  a  leading  capacity,  as  in  the  noble  brutes, 
the  horse  and  dog,  for  example,  and  in  the  more  per- 
fectly developed  human  types.  Xerve-tissue  is  a  cha- 
racteristic of  the  anatomy  of  the  feminine,  as  we  shall 
shortly  see,  and  nerve-function  of  its  physiology ;  and 
in  proportion  to  their  presence  in  any  species  or  type, 
cet.  par.,  the  female  appears  to  be  potent  over  the  cha- 
racter of  the  offspring.  But  it  must  be  borne  in  mind 
that  nerve-tissue  is  the  instrument  of  impression,  as 
well  as  a  source  of  power — a  means  therefore  of  Object- 


54  WOMAN    AND    HEK  EEA. 

ive  beside  Subjective  action  on  the  unborn.  But  a 
means  to  be  surrendered  or  withheld,  (within  certain 
limits),  at  the  mother's  will,  when  she  is  developed  and 
intelligent  enough  to  hold  it  so.  And  with  the  endless 
volume  of  experiences  and  possibilities  which  this 
undeniable,  almost  unquestioned  truth  opens  to  us,  we 
find  ourselves  brought  face  to  face  with  another  aspect 
of  the  feminine,  which  demands  examination.  This  is 
in  itself  more  than  a  hint  at  the  greater  importance  of 
the  human  mother  in  the  endowment  of  her  offspring. 
I  allude  to  the  care  which  Xature  takes  that  the  ma- 
ternal function  in  woman  shall  not  run  beyond  the 
meridian  of  her  powers,  while  she  permits  paternity  to 
senility  and  dotage  in  man :  thus  evidentlv  assigning 
him  to  a  secondary  position,  and  crediting  Woman  with 
full  powers — employing  her  to  supply  the  lack  which 
thus  becomes  comparatively  unimportant  in  him. 

Procreation  is  the  highest  function  of  life,  in  what- 
ever form,  vegetable  or  animal.  It  is  the  End  to  which 
all  attainable  perfection  is  Means,  the  one  office  for 
which  innumerable  inferior  types  are  brought  forward 
to  their  ultimate  stage  of  development.  The  imago 
survives  its  emergence  from  the  darkness  of  its  larvae 
and  the  sluggish  joylessness  of  its  pupa  state,  wherein 
it  may  have  lain  one,  two,  or  three  years,  often  but  a 
day,  sometimes  but  a  few  hours — all  the  long  journey 
having  been  made  apparently  for  the  office  of  those 
moments,  when  life  is  winged  with  its  fullest  powers, 
and  the  inner  tides  overflow  to  leave  the  imperishable 
record  of  their  existence  and  action  in  a  posterity. 

Xature  surrounds  this  office  with  her  wisest  and 
nicest  care  :  makes  for  it  the  richest  provision  of  capa- 
city of  which  the  life  is  capable,  thus  everywhere  testi- 
fying the  sacredness  in  which  she  holds  it.     Knowing 


THE   OKGAXIC    ARGUMENT.  Da 

these  patent  truths,  we  are,  sa  jwiori,  authorized  to 
expect  that  we  shall  find  her  jealous  of  its  performance 
by  any  being  under  other  than  the  best  normal  condi- 
tions, and  that  her  jealousy  will  be  in  proportion  as  the 
being  is  potent  in  the  office.  On  the  other  hand,  we 
may  expect  to  find  her  careless  of  its  performance  in 
any  life  that  approaches  rather  the  character  of  a  con- 
dition than  of  an  absolute,  determining  power  in  it ; 
and  these  are  the  respective  positions  of  the  masculine 
and  feminine,  in  respect  not  only  of  the  continuance 
of  the  function  into  the  period  of  declining  powers,  but 
also  of  its  performance  under  certain  conditions  which 
result  from  depravities  shared  by  both.  Maternity  is, 
happily  for  social  as  well  as  individual  well-being,  de- 
stroyed by  vices  and  abuses  which  leave  the  paternal 
function  only  impaired  or  enfeebled.  But  further; 
econoni}'-  of  employment  is  proof  of  Nature's  value  of 
her  means.  She  is  prodigal  only  of  the  common,  the 
uncostly,  in  her  processes.  Weeds  grow  apace.  A 
roadside  thistle  will  produce  more  progeny  than  a  forest 
oak  ;  fishes  than  birds,  birds  than  mammals,  male  than 
female.  Would  she  waste  her  rarest  means  so  %  Indeed, 
it  would  seem  as  if  the  argument  for  the  more  import- 
ant part  of  the  feminine  in  this  office  might  be  pretty 
well  concluded  in  the  two  facts  that  Maternity  bears 
such  a  relation  to  the  life  that  it  is  only  permitted  a 
limited  number  of  times  to  all  the  higher  creatures  ;  at 
most  to  Woman,  not  as  many  in  all  her  years  as  pater- 
nity is  in  a  single  month  to  man,  and  that  the  waste  of 
resource  is  so  incomparably  greater  in  the  latter  that 
numerical  terms  will  scarce  express  it. 

Again,  the  suspension  of  this  function  in  Woman 
marks   her  life  by  a  physical  change — an  experience 


56  WOMAN    AXD    HER    ERA. 

peculiar  to  herself.  The  masculine  life  is  divisible, 
physiologically,  into  two  periods,  youth  and  maturity 
— ante-paternal  and  paternal ;  the  feminine  into  three, 
Ante-Maternal,  Maternal,  and  Post-Maternal — and  the 
transition  from  the  second  to  the  third  is  a  physiologic- 
al experience  exclusive  to  Woman,  which  is  balanced 
by  nothing  in  the  functional  experience  of  man. 

Now  what  is  the  language  of  natural  physiological 
change?  It  is  advancement — never  degradation.  It 
is  the  unequivocal  testimony,  in  any  life  which  it 
marks,  of  a  degree  of  differentiation  beyond  that  of 
another  life,  into  which  it  cannot  come.  And  unless 
we  reject  advancement  as  the  Aim,  and  progress  from 
condition  to  condition  as  the  Method,  of  Nature,  we 
must  acknowledge  that  it  marks  a  stage  of  growth  in 
the  ultimate,  if  not  in  the  present  powers  of  the  life,  at 
whatever  time  it  takes  place  and  with  whatever  mani- 
fest diminution  of  existing  capacities.  I  speak  not 
here  of  the  change  to  old  age,  which  comes  upon  all 
living,  (though  of  that  also  it  is  equally  to  be  affirmed 
that  it  is  advancement  toward  the  ultimate),  but  of 
those  changes  which  mark  functional  stages  in  the  life. 

Now  of  this  great  change  in  Woman,  from  the  Ma- 
ternal to  the  Post-Maternal  period,  nothing  could  be 
more  natural  than  that,  in  the  material  ages  which  are 
past,  it  should,  happening  to  Woman  alone  of  all  living, 
have  been  read  as  a  sign  of  her  descent  from  a  full  to  a 
limited*  life — from  capacity  to  incapacity :  an  absolute, 
uncompensated  loss  of  power;  because  no  material 
compensation  appeared,  to  take  its  place  in  the  circuit 
of  her  corporeal  capacities.  So  that  this  very  evidence, 
which  to  future  generations  will  testify  her  snper-exalt- 
ation,  has  been  read  as  testifying  its  opposite;  and 
this,  though  everywhere  else  in  Nature,  the  function 


THE    ORGANIC    ARGUMENT.  57 

of  physiological  change  lias  been  clearly  enough  com- 
prehended to  be  received  as  evidence  of  Nature's  inten- 
tion to  advance  the  life  which  is  its  subject.  The 
reasons  for  this  misinterpretation,  which  has  cost  the 
sex  such  countless  ages  of  dread  of  the  inevitable,  such 
humiliation,  and  nameless  martyrdoms  which  can  be 
known  only  to  itself,  are,  it  seems  to  me,  plain  in  the 
light  of  the  present  day.**  For  it  is  transmutation  of 
power  in  Woman ;  the  annulling  of  a  set  of  corporeal 
functions,  and  the  transfer  of  the  capacity  entering  into 
them  to  a  more  exalted  department  of  the  life — the 
winding  up  of  a  physical  series,  and  the  opening  of 


*  My  acquaintance  with  women  of  the  nobler  sort  has  con- 
vinced me  that  many  a  woman  has  experienced,  at  times,  a  secret 
joy  in  her  advancing  age,  and  been  in  herself  capable  of  receiv- 
ing it  gladly,  as  a  privilege,  who  nevertheless  has  been  so  over- 
ruled by  the  universal  masculine  judgment  as  to  see  in  it  only  a 
loss  of  Power,  and  a  condition,  therefore,  that  ought  to  be 
deplored  and  commiserated.  That  day  is  forever  past,  thank 
God,  for  enlightened  women,  and  will  be,  in  no  long  time,  for 
their  less  fortunate  sisters.  For  women  developed  enough  to  have 
opinions  and  take  any  ground,  teach  each  other  very  rapidly. 
Their  presence  in  the  field  of  masculine  errors  is  like  sunlight  to 
the  mists  of  early  dawn.  Let  the  idea  once  go  abroad  among  the 
sex,  that  feminine  life  is  divided  by  Nature  into  three  periods, 
each  of  which  is  an  advance — growth,  not  diminution — and  we 
shall  soon  cease  the  wailing  and  lamentation  over  the  first  gray 
hair  and  the  first  wrinkle  at  the  eyes.  Let  women  of  all  ages 
remember  these  three  periods  and  their  character :  first,  the 
human,  or  youthful,  in  which  the  feminine  is  least  diverged  from 
the  masculine  ;  next,  the  generative,  or  maternal,  in  which  it  has 
taken  its  exclusive  path  and  is  walking  towards  its  own  kingdom  ; 
third,  the  regenerative,  or  spiritual,  in  which  the  others  culmi- 
nate, and  where  the  ultimate  brightest  glory  of  earthly  Woman- 
hood alone  is  seen  or  enjoyed.  Who  can  dread  to  reach  this? 
Surely  none  who  see  what  it  truly  is. 
3* 


58  WOMAN    1ND    HER    ERA. 

wider  channels  for  the  outflow  of  the  affectional  and 
spiritual  nature — the  closing  of  one  set  of  avenues, 
and  the  broader  opening  of  another,  lying  above 
them. 

Woman  has  a  right  to  this  deduction  in  her  favor, 
and  not  a  right  only,  which  she  might  be  too  modest 
or  self-denying  to  claim,  but  it  exists  of  necessity  for 
her.  She  cannot  reject  it  if  she  would ;  and  this  no 
less  that  through  all  the  ages  in  which  this  experience 
of  hers  has  been  misread,  the  sex  has  been  incapable, 
by  reason  of  its  lack  of  development,  of  furnishing 
grounds  for  any  other  than  this  mistaken  conclusion. 

And  let  it  be  remembered  that  there  is  no  essential 
contradiction  here  of  the  preceding  statement  respect- 
ing the  dignity  of  the  parental  function  ;  first,  because 
no  function  is  claimed  that  ranks  that  one,  and  second, 
because  there  is  a  larger  sense  in  which  Woman  is  ma- 
ternal  than  the  functional  sense;  in  which  the  maternal 
soul  is  generative  when  the  body  has  ceased  to  be  so ; 
embraces  humanity  as  its  child ;  travails  in  pain  with 
it  for  its  sufferings,  hindrances,  darknesses,  perversions, 
and  yearns  over  it,  when  born  into  the  higher  life,  with 
a  maternal  solicitude  and  affection.  Here  Woman  is 
regenerative,  and  Motherhood  takes  on  a  less  concen- 
tered, but  more  divine,  because  more  Godlike  charac- 
ter, becoming  broad  and  inclusive,  like  the  divine 
Motherhood,  which  lofty  and  tender  souls  see,  and  have 
in  all  ages  seen,  in  the  heavens  opened  to  their  inner 
eyes. 

This  phenomenon  of  the  human  feminine  is  signifi- 
cantly called  by  names  which  indicate  a  dim  percep- 
tion of  its  true  character.  The  "  turn  of  life,"  into 
new  channels — the  "  change  of  life,"  from  old  forms  of 
expression  to  new,  but  never  is  it,  in  popular  language, 


THE   ORGANIC    ARGUMENT.  59 

named  diminution  of  life  or  loss  of  it.  And  what  an 
experience  to  the  developed  woman,  whose  intellectual 
and  emotional  memory  sweeps  back  over  the  wide,  and 
infinitely  diversified  kingdoms,  the  last  of  whose  gates 
are  about  to  close  upon  her  forever ;  whose  earnest 
insight  would  penetrate  the  mysteries  of  that  which  is 
awaiting  her,  and  forerun  experience  on  the  trackless 
path  which  leads  up  to  those  vailed  hights  whose  dim- 
ness vanishes  with  each  year's  approach — the  welcome 
ground  her  feet  are  impatient  to  tread. 

In  vain  will  man  send  forth  his  Imagination,  with 
pinion  all  unloosed,  to  picture  this  era  of  Woman's 
life.  There  are  no  dyes  in  which  her  brush  may  be 
dipped,  that  will  lay  in  the  colors  of  that  matchless 
mosaic.  Look  back  over  the  long  road  she  has  traveled, 
since  incipient  Maternity,  in  her  tiny  body,  kissed  and 
caressed  its  first  doll — childhood  and  its  natural,  grace- 
ful, refined,  artistic  joys ;  Maidenhood  and  its  timid, 
shy,  palpitating  hopes,  yearnings,  fears,  trusts,  loves ; 
Womanhood  and  its  deep,  grand,  awful  experiences — 
all  leading  up  to  this  mysterious  gateway,  by  which 
she  is  to  pass  to  a  still  unknown,  separated,  Beyond. 
What  valleys  of  early  hope  lie  cool  and  dewy,  pure  and 
fragrant,  in  that  far  distance  which  she  remembers — 
what  wide,  monotonous  plains  spread  all  about  her,  as 
she  advanced — what  shining  hights,  bathed  in  the 
auroral  airs  of  love,  promised  her  their  fullness  of  joy, 
their  perfect  peace — what  hills  of  difficulty  presently 
arose — what  black,  forbidding  steeps  of  impossibility — 
what  vast  continents,  over  which  the  winds  of  experi- 
ence blew  in  alternate  zephyr  and  tornado — what  des- 
erts, where  death  withered  every  bud  and  leaf  that  made 
life  sweet ;  where  sorrow  turned  fairest  flowers  to  ashes, 
and  sweetest  savors  to  bitterness ;  -where  suffering  dried 


60  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA, 

every  fountain  and  parched  all  the  little,  gurgling 
springs,  and  sucked  up  the  tiny  streams,  whose  flow 
would  have  adorned  and  made  vocal  the  landscape. 

O  there  is  no  language  of  Woman's  soul  that  is 
large  enough  to  contain  this,  still  less  then  of  Man's,  to 
whom  every  feature  of  it  is  denied,  as  experience.  He 
is  but  an  outside  spectator,  and  must  wait  his  introduc- 
tion, such  as  he  is  capable  of  taking,  at  the  hand  of 
Woman.  He  is  an  infidel  here ;  often  alas,  a  jeerer,  a 
scoffer,  lacking  faith  in  what  his  own  consciousness 
does  not  report  to  him  of  human  sensation  and  emo- 
tion. He  is  a  speculative  looker-on  at  what  he  half  or 
wholly  doubts,  even  while  trying  to  see  it ;  and  because 
each  phase  of  the  experience  transcends  his  capacities 
for  feeling  and  knowing,  he  is  here,  whatever  his  intel- 
lectual pride  and  power  elsewhere,  but  a  little  child  to 
be  led  and  taught.  His  material  science  takes  note  of 
the  more  obvious,  physical  facts;  even  his  uninstructed 
intellect  admits  their  reality,  but  those  less  obvious  to 
his  coarser  sense  he  either  refuses  to  acknowledge  as 
having  any  deeper  existence  than  the  Imagination, 
wherefore  they  amuse  or  vex  him ;  or  he  commiserates 
their  subject  as  the  victim  of  mere  whims,  delusions, 
fancies,  which  a  sound,  vigorous  life  like  his  would  ex- 
tinguish at  once.  The  psychical  facts,  the  realities,  of 
which  the  corporeal  phenomena  are  but  the  symbols 
and  signs,  he  mostly  refuses  to  recognize  as  having  any 
but  the  most  shadowy  existence.  To  him  they  are  but 
a  dream  of  dreams,  all  those  mighty  currents  of  emo- 
tion setting  to  and  fro,  from  the  deepest  centers  to  the 
uttermost  limits  of  being  in  the  individual.  But  Man 
has  necessarily  thus  far  been  the  only  student  of  Wo- 
man's nature — the  sole  expounder  of  it  to  himself  and 
her.     What  marvel,  seeing  the  wide  distance  between 


THE    ORGANIC    ARGUMENT.  61 

them,  that  both  are  so  profoundly  ignorant  of  it? 
What  marvel  that,  in  her  desperation,  arrived  at  this 
great  transit,  only  darkness,  mystery  and  loss  of  power 
before — only  swiftly  perishing  capacity  behind — around 
her  only  skepticism  as  to  the  most  profound  realities  of 
her  daily  life,  happy  if  it  be  but  skepticism,  in  gentle, 
patient  form,  instead  of  jeering,  sarcasm,  or  harshness 
— nowhere  a  ray  of  intelligent  sympathy — books  dumb, 
persons  blind  to  her  emotions  of  joy  and  suffering ; 
looking  cold  or  forbearingly  askance  if  she  chance  to 
utter  so  much  as  a  word  of  some  unfamiliar  thought  or 
feeling  that  possesses  her — younger  women  pitying  or 
half  despising  her — elder  women,  who  give  their  sym- 
pathy, having  no  real  light  to  give — the  husband 
making  the  same  demands  upon  her,  respecting  only 
corporeal  disability — even  affectionate  children,  loving 
daughters,  and  tender,  manly  sons,  plainly  showing 
that  it  is  pity  rather  than  reverence  that  controls  their 
treatment  of  her;  all  her  relations,  in  short,  shaping 
themselves  to  the  theory  of  a  diminished  instead  of  an 
expanded  self-hood — what  marvel,  I  repeat,  that  thou- 
sands of  women,  as  good  as  the  best,  as  true  as  the 
truest,  have  given  way,  in  these  fearful  years,  and 
drifted  into  the  dreary  wilderness  of  insanity,  or  rushed 
to  the  swift  escape  of  self-destruction  ? 

To  one  who  has  passed  or  is  passing  through  this  ex- 
perience, no  marvel  surely.  The  wonder  rather  is  that, 
considering  the  complication  of  the  instrument,  its 
numerous  and  exquisite  sensibilities,  and  the  discords 
which  life,  in  its  ruthlessness  and  riot,  is  continually 
playing  upon  it,  it  should  not  oftener  give  way.  This  it  is, 
this  wondrous  endurance,  this  sublime  self-poise,  where 
self-poise  would  seem  to  be  the  last  thing  we  could  rea- 
sonably expect,  which,  as  much  as  any  other  quality  of 


62  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

Womanhood,  kindles  the  reverence  of  the  thoughtful 
soul  towards  it.  Consider  the  average  Woman  of 
civilization  arrived  hither.  It  need  not  he  said  that  she 
has  suffered,  whatever  her  lot  may  have  been.  To  be  a 
Woman  is  to  suffer,  thus  far  in  the  human  career.  Each 
of  us  knows  this,  and  it  is  not  hidden  from  the  noblest 
men.  Yet,  though  disappointment  has  shocked,  pain 
has  wrung,  and  grief  exhausted  her  life,  the  fountain 
has  refilled  itself  after  every  drain,  from  those  invisible 
springs  whose  deeply-hidden  sources  even  she  per- 
chance knows  not.  Finding  that  they  are,  she  is 
thankful ;  with  secret  thrills  that  sound  down  to  the 
depths  of  her  nature,  she  takes  conscious  possession  of 
her  riches  and  moves  along  her  way.  From  year  to 
year  of  the  thirty  or  forty  that  make  her  middle  period, 
she  has  accepted  life  as  it  came,  sustaining  herself  as 
best  she  could  when  the  revolving  wheel  carried  her 
down,  and,  as  she  rose,  reaching  out  to  draw  others  up 
to  her  own  elevation.  The  men  who  set  out  on  the 
road  with  her,  the  husband,  brother,  friends,  are  ex- 
cused if  they  grow  hard,  or  bitter,  or  resistant,  between 
the  upper  and  the  nether  mill-stone,  even  though  they 
be  less  bruised  than  she ;  but  no  provision  is  made  for 
her  becoming  so.  She  is  counted  on  to  be  steadily 
hopeful,  sustaining,  compassionate,  helpful,  loving. 
The  average  Woman  is  so.  She  is  the  concrete  of  those 
elements  in  the  human  society  of  all  ages. 

She  stands  at  this  portal,  now,  which  separates  her 
past  and  present  from  a  future  that  is  unknown  to  her, 
and  that  is  made  forbidding  by  the  theory  she  has  re- 
ceived of  it.  Xo  wonder  that  she  looks  upon  these 
gates,  as  the  condemned  upon  the  door  which  is  next 
to  open  the  way  to  his  scaffold — that  she  counts  sadly 
every  step  wdiich  brings  her  nearer  to  them — that  she 


THE    ORGASTIC    ARGUMENT.  63 

would  fain  convince  herself  and  the  world  that  she  is 
yet  far  oil';  thirty-five  instead  of  forty-five;  fresh  with 
youth  instead  of  cosmetics :  gay  from  happiness  instead 
of  simulation.  For  that  awful  future  !  Wherein  it  is 
not  mysterious  it  is  worse  ;  insulting,  neglectful,  chill- 
ing. And,  whatever  its  aspect  to  her,  the  near  ap- 
proaches to  it  are  through  trials  of  soul  and  sense  that 
call  for  the  most  delicate  consideration,  the  deepest 
tenderness,  the  hnest  sympathy  of  the  spirit.  It  is  the 
winding  up  of  a  set  of  functions,  the  most  august  of  her 
gifts — of  a  circuit  of  nerve-activities,  and  the  transfer 
of  the  liner  powers,  capacities,  and  sensibilities  involved 
in  them,  from  the  corporeal  to  the  psychical  level.  All 
this  does  not  take  place  without  perturbations  of  heart, 
and  nerve,  and  brain,  hard  to  bear  at  the  best — ap- 
palling at  times,  in  the  darkness  wherein  she  has  to 
grope  her  lonely*  way.  First  come  those  fluctuating 
movements,  the  elm  of  the  currents  from  center  to  cir- 
cumference, the  earliest  hint  given  by  Xature  that  she 
is  preparing  to  suspend  their  centripetal  action.  But 
this  of  the  corporeal  is  only  the  symbol  of  a  correspond- 
ing spiritual  action.  In  the  Maternal  period  centrali- 
zation was  the  necessary  policy,  since  Maternity  is  of 
a  rank  to  subordinate  all  contemporary  powers,  and 
make  them  legitimately  subservient  to  itself.  Xow  this 
function  is  to  pass  away  from  her.  The  powers  which 
co-worked  with  it  may  remain,  many  of  them  even  in 
augmented  degree,  for  years,  but  their  direction  is  to 
be  changed. 

Three  reasons  appear  for  this  change.  Doubtless 
there  are  many  others,  did  we  understand  them,  but 
three  are  apparent ;  two  which  concern  the  race  and 
one  the  individual.  First,  the  species  is  to  be  protected 
against  the  wide-spread  calamity  which  must  fall  upon 


64  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

it  were  this  office  continued  into  the  dotage  of  Woman, 
as  paternity  is  to  Man.  Second,  Society,  according  to 
its  advancement,  needs  other  service  from  Woman ; 
calls  her  to  other  fields  in  these  years,  having  need  of 
her  there,  as  we  shall  see  by-and-by.  Third,  the  indi- 
vidual is  to  have  a  period  of  repose  from  the  taxes  and 
cares  which  Maternity  lays  upon  her — a  period  when 
the  powers  are  ripened  for  growth,  and  when  life, 
through  the  fullness  of  experience,  has  become  a  ma- 
jestic, flowing  river,  whose  current  passion  and  sense 
are  no  more  to  lash  into  foam  or  break  into  roaring 
rapids.  Or  a  lofty  mountain  is  it  ?  whose  calm  sum- 
mit has  pierced  the  clouds  and  now  rises  in  grand 
repose  above  their  changing,  shifting  haste  and  fury. 
After  the  earnest,  self-sacrificing,  absorbing  struggles 
of  the  maternal  years,  this  season  fitly  comes — a  sab- 
bath-interlude of  harmony  and  peace,  to  be  followed 
by  Heaven.  Let  any  woman  to  whom  Maternity  has 
been  what  it  ought  to  be  in  the  feminine  life,  the  para- 
mount interest,  aim,  and  office  of  its  two  or  three  mid- 
dle decades,  consider  what  it  would  be  to  go  on  giving 
herself  thus  in  that  unstinted  measure,  up  to  the  full 
term  of  her  years — all  the  self-sacrifice  continuing,  all 
the  cares,  solicitudes,  responsibilities,  going  on  so  till 
sixty  or  seventy,  and  she  will  readily  see  how  benefi- 
cent is  its  suspension,  and  also  how  much  more  her 
self-hood  is  involved  in  it  than  is  that  of  Man  in  pater- 
nity. Each  life  has  yielded  of  itself  according  to  tha 
demands  upon  it :  one  in  self-gratification,  the  other 
in  self-giving;  one  in  self-love,  the  other  in  loving. 
Instead,  therefore,  of  repining  at  the  change  which 
finally  suspends  this  office  to  her,  she  will  receive  it  as 
a  just  due — especially  if  she  has  been  so  happy  as  to 
give  herself  freely,  wholly,  intelligently,  loyally,  to  its 


THE    ORGANIC    ARGUMENT.  65 

fulfilling — and  feel  her  life  made  richer,  not  poorer,  by 
its  coming. 

But  there  are  nervous  perturbations  to  be  borne 
during  this  period  of  transfer,  there  are  mental  states 
to  be  endured,  and  outlived  as  best  they  can,  many  of 
which,  coming  to  him  singly,  would  appall  the  strong 
man  who  indulges  a  smile  at  the  mention  of  them.  The 
superior-maternal  system  is  a  nervous  center  of  itself, 
endowed  with  sensibilities  inconceivable  to  man,  and 
as  its  action  winds  up,  the  nerve-power  must  coalesce 
with  the  permanent  cerebral  and  organic  systems.  A 
corresponding  psychical  action  therefore  takes  place. 
The  mind  and  affections  let  go,  for  seasons,  their  accus- 
tomed objects ;  the  subject  of  the  change  finds  herself 
on  some  day — when  all  the  objective  world  is  occupy- 
ing familiar,  well-beaten  ground,  every  wheel  in  the 
outside  machinery  of  life  turning  orderly  in  its  time 
and  place — standing,  as  it  were,  alone  in  the  wide  uni- 
verse, which  never  before  seemed  so  wide.  All  relations 
seem  to  have  fallen  off  from  her,  as  a  dropped  garment 
folds  itself  silently  at  her  feet.  Emotion  is  for  the  time 
gone,  its  agent  and  minister,  the  nervous  life,  being 
engaged  in  searching  out  and  clearing  its  new  homes 
and  paths.  Away,  and  further  away,  in  this  appalling 
experience,  retreats  every  object  and  bond  that  made 
the  world  a  hospitable  home  before.  Wider  and  wider 
grows  her  horizon,  naked  and  more  naked  the  area 
within  it,  till  she  realizes  at  her  profoundest  depths, 
the  very  truth  of  the  old  words  that  it 

"  is  not  the  whole  of  life  to  live." 

She  finds  that  it  is  indeed  a  small  thing  to  breathe 
the  breath  of  life,  to  take  food  and  drink,  to  feed  and 
clothe  herself  daily,  when  outside  the  limits  of  her  ma- 


66  WOMAN    AND    HER    EKA. 

terial  being  there  is  nothing,  all  has  perished  for  her 
or  vanished  from  her  grasp — that,  saddest  of  all,  she  is 
scarcely  moved  to  stretch  forth  and  prove  whether  or 
not  they  might,  perchance,  be  recalled ;  she  is  indiffer- 
ent. Then,  on  another  day,  as  unmarked  by  any  out- 
ward event  as  the  previous  one,  the  dislodged  wanderer 
having  found,  apparently,  a  kingdom  worthy  his  pres- 
ence, an  acceptable  home,  walks  it  with  royal  serenity, 
and  lo,  from  the  still  chambers  and  the  silent  courts  of 
heart  and  brain,  there  presently  issues  an  august  pres- 
ence whose  name  is  Love  Divine.  It  shines  over  the 
family,  over  the  neighborhood,  the  state,  the  world,  the 
universe.  By  that  light  the  soul  goes  forth  to  embrace 
every  form  of  sentient  life  wherever  it  exists.  Birds 
of  Saturn,  fishes  of  Jupiter,  creeping  things  of  Uranus, 
mighty  men  and  women  of  Neptune :  everywhere, 
the  humblest  mortals,  slaves  in  Africa,  pariahs  in  India, 
terrible  criminals — angels  in  Heaven,  the  Great  Good, 
all  and  each  move  the  love  that  now  warms  and  uplifts 
this  soul,  before  so  empty  and  desolate.  ~No  more  the 
tideless  Mediterranean,  but  joyful,  living  currents  carry 
the  inmost  life  outwards  over  all  that  it  can  relate  itself 
to ;  the  soul,  expanded  and  warmed,  seizes  upon  its  old 
and  its  new  relations,  and  for  an  hour,  a  day,  a  month, 
it  asks  no  pity,  feels  no  poverty  because  of  what  has 
gone  in  the  change  that  has  come  to  it. 

But  these  fluctuations  continue  perhaps  for  years, 
few  or  many,  the  pathological  condition  of  civilized 
Woman,  doubtless  prolonging  their  day.  And  they 
terminate,  be  it  sooner  or  later,  in  one  of  two  condi- 
tions :  a  being  narrowed  and  impoverished  by  what  is 
gone  from  it ;  or  expanded  and  enriched  by  that  which 
has  come  in  its  stead.  It  needs  not  be  told  to  any 
woman,  which  is  the  natural  result,  and  must  therefore 


THE    ORGANIC    ARGUMENT.  67 

be  the  ultimate  destiny,  of  all  Womankind.  For  none 
can  be  in  doubt  on  that  point.  Butglance  at  the  condi- 
tions for  portraits  of  the  two  classes  into  which  women 
naturally  separate,  whatever  their  social  rank  or  cul- 
ture, after  they  enter  upon  this  period.  Those  who 
fall  into  the  former  estate — whether  they  belong  socially 
to  West  End  or  Lambeth  ;  to  the  Boulevards  or  the 
Quartier ;  to  Fifth  Avenue  or  the  meanest  suburb —  ( 
make  up  the  rank  and  file  of  that  large  army  which 
the  world,  not  being  able  lawfully  to  rid  itself  of,  en- 
camps in  the  quietest  nooks  at  its  firesides,  and  gladly 
so,  withdraws  from  notice  as  far  as  possible ;  avenging 
itself,  meantime,  by  the  sly  indulgence  of  its  undisguised 
contempt. 

Old  Woman  !  It  is  an  easily-spoken  word,  which 
flippant  young  people,  and  people  neither  flippant  nor 
young,  love  to  utter  when  they  have  reached  the  cli- 
max of  polite  impatience.  It  is  a  representative  word, 
implying  that  into  that  creature  whom  it  designates, 
Nature  has  put  all  that  can  go  to  the  perfect  com- 
pound of  human  weakness  and  feebleness ;  poverty  and 
narrowness  of  life,  imbecility  without  the  sacreclness  of 
idiocy,  vacillation,  hollowness,  blindness  to  all  rational 
aims  and  objects,  beside  every  measure  of  petty,  help- 
less selfishness  that  the  shrunk  shell  can  contain  ;  and 
that  from  it  she  has  withdrawn  every  element  of  value 
and  power  in  body,  mind,  and  soul,  that  had  been 
there. 

It  is  a  fate  one  shrinks  from,  that  of  being  passed 
thus  from  the  stage  of  active,  conscious,  commanding 
expression,  to  a  seat  at  the  side  scenes,  where,  as  your 
successors  come  and  go,  you  are  to  expect  insult,  or 
jeer,  or  toleration,  or  pity.  Let  none  wonder  that 
these  places  are  sought  with  slow,  reluctant  feet,  even 


68  WOMAJN   AND    HER    EliA. 

by  those  who  are  utterly  helpless  to  approach  a  more 
attractive  one.  But  the  Old  Woman  has  to  submit  to 
her  lot,  however  hard  it  be ;  for  when  she  has  reached 
it,  neither  heaven  nor  earth  can  redeem  her  from  it. 
She  has  prepared  no  royal  seat  for  the  power  which 
Nature  has  wisely  and  kindly  dethroned ;  no  avenues 
are  opened  for  its  going  and  coming  to  spirit  or  intel- 
lect, and  it  lies  palsied  there  where  it  descended.  The 
maternal  activities  cease — that  central  light  is  extin- 
guished on  its  altars,  and  all  the  circumference  is 
sealed  against  its  egress  by  the  higher  and  broader 
roads  of  aspiration  and  universal  love.  The  radii  of 
her  being  are  lodged,  at  their  periphery,  in  an  armor 
of  chilled  bigotry,  ignorance,  self-complacency,  self- 
indulgence,  vanity,  ambition,  worldliness  in  some  or 
many  of  its  protean  forms,  and  they  shorten  continu- 
ally instead  of  lengthening.  She  is  like  an  apple  on  a 
winter  bough  ;  the  frost  has  diminished  its  fluid  bulk, 
and  the  wrinkled  rind  that  was  so  fair  and  beautiful 
has  followed  the  retreating  diameters.  Soul  and  body 
fare  alike.  Selfishness,  darkness,  unwomanly  skepti- 
cism of  possible  good,  of  the  noble  destiny  of  all ;  pride, 
vanity,  envy,  jealousy,  hate,  all  seal  up  the  outlets  of 
the  noble  ■  life,  wither  its  proportions,  and  thus  make 
the  fate  alike  inescapable  to  the  individual  and  re- 
proachful to  the  sex.     Look  now  on  this  picture. 

We  never  say  Old  Woman  of  her  whose  aspiring, 
loving,  growing  life  has  brought  her  to  the  higher 
estate  of  the  Post-Maternal  period.  Woman  is  her 
name,  for  age  is  felt  to  have  made  her  more  instead  of 
less,  so  that  she  more  perfectly  represents  the  ideal 
than  in  her  earlier  period.  Few  in  number  are  they 
by  comparison  ?  Granted.  But  the  noble  few  are 
always  prophets  of  the  coming  many.     And,  men  or 


TIIE    ORGANIC    ARGUMENT.  09 

women,  it  is  but  the  few  who  can  transcend  their  ac- 
cepted theory  of  life,  and  illustrate  a  nobler  one.  Now 
Woman's  theory  of  her  nature  and  passing  destiny,  (it 
might  be  said  of  her  eternal  destiny  too),  is  taken  from 
Man's  study  and  teaching  of  her,  and  these  are  based 
upon  what  his  senses  discover,  through  the  aid  of  his 
external  intellect  alone.  For  he  can  have  no  intuition 
of  those  truths  of  Woman's  nature  which  transcend  the 
phenomenal  limits  of  his  own.  Deductively  these  lie 
beyond  his  reach,  and  their  inductive  discovery  is 
slow,  confused,  contradictory,  irregular,  and  fragment- 
ary, because  the  starting-points  for  making  it  not 
being  included  in  his  own  consciousness,  and  not  being- 
open  to  h'.s  observation,  as  in  Geology  and  Botany,  can 
only  be  approximated  by  him  at  best ;  are  long  the 
subjects  of  mere  conjecture,  or  are  openly  scouted  and 
rejected.  In  proof  of  this,  we  have  only  to  look  at  the 
fact  that  while  he  has  been  compelled  to  teach  an 
Anatomy,  a  Physiology  and  a  Pathology  of  the  femi- 
nine, and  all  because  of  more,  not  less,  in  Woman,  he 
still  teaches  her  inferiority,  thus  going  directly  in  the 
face  of  every  law  which  he  rests  on  for  diametrically 
opposite  conclusions,  throughout  the  whole  inferior 
world  of  life,  the  identical  reasons  given  for  his  organic 
superiority  being  those  which  would  in  part,  determine 
that  of  the  quadruped  over  him,  namely,  a  more  limited 
range  of  functions. 

Receiving  this  theory  from  Man  (as  in  their  intel- 
lectual helplessness  thus  for,  Women  have  been  con- 
strained to  do),  and  the  equally  glaring  absurdity 
which  crowns  it,  this  of  the  diminution  of  Womanhood 
in  the  final  change  to  the  Post-Maternal  period,  is  it 
any  wonder  that  they  have  not  yet, in  any  large  num- 
bers, made  illustrious  this  season  of  divine  privilege  in 


70  WOMAN    AND    HER    EEA. 

relations,  work,  retrospect  and  prospect?  Universal 
Motherhood  !  the  overflowing  love  which  reaches  to  all, 
and  is  happiest  when  most  diffused,  as  air,  light, 
warmth,  God's  own  love.  We  revere  universal  father- 
hood in  Him,  but  Motherhood  is  the  perfect  type  of 
all  that  is  tender,  embracing,  inclusive,  cherishing, 
creative  in  and  for  its  object.  It  must  penetrate  be- 
yond the  crust  of  external  needs,  touch  the  inner 
springs  and  harmonize  them  for  future  independent 
action.  Not  to  supply  happiness,  alone,  but  to  create 
permanent  sources  of  self-supply.  Not  to  generate, 
which  may  be  of  the  body  only,  but  to  regenerate, 
which  must  be  of  the  soul.  Not  contracted,  monoton- 
ous relations  therefore,  henceforward,  but  widened  and 
varied  ones — not  a  narrow  stage  of  action,  but  one  as 
broad  as  the  powers  can  fill.  Even  shriveled, chimney- 
corner  Womanhood  feels  something  of  this  stirring  at 
its  center,  and  stretches  forth  a  spasmodic  hand,  now 
and  then,  to  lay  hold  of  its  true-  work  in  some  misdi- 
rected or  undirected  life  that  is  going  to  waste  in  its 
sight; is  more  the  grand  or  great-mother  than  parallel 
Manhood  is  the  grand  or  great-father."     And  for  true 


*  The  seeing  of  these  truths  in  their  practical  bearing,  may 
perhaps  be  helped  by  a  glance  at  the  classes  into  which  Women 
in  their  present  stage  of  development,  separate  on  passing  this 
period.  They  are  three  :  first,  the  large  common  class,  in  which 
practical  degeneracy  from  the  functional  power,  and  its  advanta- 
ge*, to  a  life  narrowed  in  circuit,  diminished  in  force,  enfeebled 
in  purpose,  is  actually  experienced ;  second,  a  small  class,  in 
whom  the  suspended  power  seems  to  pass  over  to  the  masculine 
side,  and  re-appears  there  in  greater  coarseness  of  features,  ac- 
tion, thought  and  speech;  in  more  ungentle  manners,  and  a  hard- 
ness of  character  which  sometimes  painfully  surprises  those  who 
have  known  the  earlier  life ;  and  third,  the  class,  not  as  yet  large 


THE    ORGANIC    ARGUMENT.  71 

"Womanhood  arrived  here  there  is  no  growing  old. 
Age  refines  and  enriches,  warms  and  illuminates,  ex- 
pands and  exalts  her.  She  is  more  and  more  Woman 
through  it ;  not  less  and  less.  The  noble  life  that  has 
led  her  hither  is  her  grand  cosmetic.  To  its  close,  per- 
sonal ugliness  is  impossible :  wanting  it,  no  arts,  how- 
ever artful,  can  save  the  face  of  fifty,  sixty,  seventy 
years,  from  the  change  that  will  one  day  be  an  accusa 
tion,  proving  itself,  against  its  owner.  The  woman 
whom  youthful  beauty  has  not  blessed  finds  her  day 
and  reign  here.  Her  loving  friends,  charmed  the  more 
with  her  the  older  she  grows,  say — "how  handsome 
she  is."  Every  year  makes  her  more  beautiful  to  the 
eye,  more  interesting  to  the  spirit.  Her  intellect, 
loosed  from  the  golden  bonds  of  corporeal  Maternity, 
rises  to  the  grasp  of  higher  truths.  That  has  been  Edu- 
cation for  this,  which  is  even  a  diviner  Use.  There  she 
was  Nature's  pupil  as  well  as  minister;  here  she  is  her 
honored  professor.  Society  loves  to  sit  at  her  feet  and 
feel  the  genial  descent  into  its  soul,  of  the  inspiration 
that  flows  from  hers,  as  if  it  realized  the  saying  of  the 
A^i.Vhnu,  that  "every  book  of  knowledge  which  is 
known  to  Oosana  or  to  Vreehaspatee,  is  by  Kature 
implanted  in  the  understandings  of  Women.*' 


in  any  country  or  age,  but  increasing  noticeably  with  every  pass- 
ing generation,  numbering  more  whitened  heads  and  spiritualized 
faces  in  this  than  any  day  that  is  past,  in  whom  age  is  actually 
the  ripening  of  all  the  physical  powers,  the  unfolding  of  the 
Spiritual,  the  setting  free  of  the  Ideal  Woman  from  her  limits 
and  hindrances — the  perfecting  of  the  nature.  To  these,  Rever- 
ence and  Love  flow  as  naturally  from  surrounding  lives  as  to  the 
Angels  and  God  ;  and  from  them  they  return  again  as  naturally 
to  the  givers  of  them. 


72  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

It  is  all  expressed,  how  inimitably,  in  these  few 
lines : 

"  0  the  ripened  joy  of  Womanhood  ! 

0  perfect  happiness  at  last ! 

1  am  more   than   eighty  years  of  age — my  hair  too  is  pure 

white — I  am  the  most  venerable  Mother ; 
How  clear  is  my  mind  !  how  all  people  draw  nigh  to  me  ! 
"What  attractions  are  these,  beyond  any  before?  what  bloom 

more  than  the  bloom  of  youth  ? 
What  beauty  is  this  that  descends  upon  and  rises  out  of  me  V} 

II.  The  next  volume  of  evidence  to  be  opened  in 
our  case  is  that  of  the  nervous  structure.  And  there 
is  no  greater  need  of  abstruse,  labored  statements  here 
than  in  the  points  already  examined.  I  shall  only  en- 
deavor to  show  some  of  the  physiological  relations  of 
nerve-tissue  and  its  comparative  and  relative  quantity 
in  Woman. 

Z^erve-matter  is  Xature's  highest  visible  means  for 
the  exaltation  of  life.  Where  it  is  most  liberally  em- 
ployed, not  only  are  the  corporeal  offices  higher  in  cha- 
racter and  quality,  but  the  psychical  forces  are  relatively 
stronger.  Draper  finely  observes  that,  "  from  the  mo- 
ment we  see  the  first  traces  of  the  nervous  mechanism 
lying  in  the  primitive  groove,  we  recognize  the  subor- 
dination of  every  other  part  to  that  mechanism.  For 
it,  and  because  of  it,  are  introduced  the  digestive,  the 
circulatonT,  the  secretory,  the  respiratory  apparatus. 
They  are  merely  its  ministers.  *  And,  fastening  our 
attention  on  the  course  which  it  pursues,  we  see  that  it 
is  at  once  a  course  of  concentration  and  development. 
The  special  is  at  each  instant  coming  out  of  the  more 
general,  and,  from  the  beginning  to  the  end,  the  whole 
aim  is  at  psychical  development." 

Three  facts  in  the  anatomy  of  the  nervous  structure 


THE    ORGANIC    ARGUMENT.  73 

are  indispensable  to  a  just  physiological  estimate  of  its 
value  to  the  possessor;  first,  its  Bize  relative  to  all 
other  parts;  second,  its  complexity  of  structure  ;  third, 
the  relative  proportion  of  the  cineritious  to  the  medul- 
lary matter.  For  although  the  third  seems  to  be  gen- 
erally dependent  on  the  second,  the  increase  of  surface 
in  the  same  bulk  necessarily  increasing  the  investing 
portion,  there  is,  beside,  a  difference  in  its  thickness  in 
the  same  situation  in  different  animals.  Tims,  while 
in  its  transverse  and  vertical  size,  the  brain  of  the  dol- 
phin is  not  greatly  exceeded  by  that  of  man,  in  the 
complexity  of  its  convolutions  and  the  thickness  of  the 
gray  substance,  the  latter  far  surpasses  the  former. 
And  these,  as  well  as  the  longer  antero-posterior  diame- 
ter, confer  on  the  human  brain  its  superiority  over  that 
of  the  fish.* 

The  human  nervous  system  is  relatively  the  largest 
on  the  earth.  For  all  our  present  purposes  it  will  suf- 
fice, I  think,  to  consider  it  here  in  two  grand  divisions, 
intra-cranial  and  extra-cranial — the  brain  proper,  con- 
tained in  the  cavity  of  the  skull,  and  the  nervous 
matter  distributed  throughout  all  other  parts  of  the 
structure. 

The  male  body  exceeds  the  female  in  size,  by  prop  na- 
tions variously  estimated  at  one-twelfth  to  one-fifteenth. 
It  is  needless  to  be  critical  here.  Those  who  desire  accu- 
rate information  can  obtain  it  by  referring  to  the 
statistics  of  M.  Quetelet,  Mr.  Sadlier,  Dr.  J.  Clarke, 
Ilofaker,  and  others:  for  the  rest,  common  observation 
of  human  beings  of  all  ages  will  amply  serve  us.  These 
proportions  below  the  head,  necessitate,  by  the  laws 
of  symmetry  in  form  as  well  as  harmony  in  use,  a  cor- 


*  Carpenter. 


T4  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

responding  variation  in  the  size  of  the  head.  Woman 
would  be  less  symmetrical,  beautiful,  and  therefore 
perfect,  if,  with  her  body,  she  had  the  cranial  size  of 
Man.  Moreover,  as  size  is  but  one  element  of  power, 
and  there  are  several  others,  nothing  is  concluded 
against  her,  in  respect  of  brain-power,  by  this  fact,  save 
that  which  depends  on  size  alone.  Nor  is  this  con- 
cluded finally  by  the  size  of  the  skull,  which  is  but  a 
casket,  of  which,  in  one  case,  the  thickness  may  reduce 
the  contents  to  a  less  absolute  quantity  than  exists  in 
another,  where,  from  extreme  fineness  and  thinness  in 
the  containing  walls,  (as  is  the  case  with  the  female 
skull  compared  with  the  male),  the  interior  capacity  is 
greater  than  appears.  But  here,  as  everywhere,  Nature 
will  interpret  the  facts  for  Woman,  if  we  will  hear  her, 
more  perfectly  and  beautifully  than  any  partisan  zeal 
in  the  cause  can.  She  has  given  greater  size  to  man 
in  brain  as  in  body — pity  for  the  race  if  she  had  not — 
greater  fineness  and  complexity  to  "Woman,  cerebral  as 
well  as  general.  Her  brain  is  finer,  as  her  other  tissues 
are;  it  is  more  complex,  as  her  general  structure  is. 
Through  the  fineness  comes  a  higher  character,  in 
powers  of  the  same  order ;  more  delicate  grasp,  more 
subtile  prehension  and  apprehension,  more  penetrative 
reach  of  faculty,  a  swifter  power  to  seize  relations  ;  a 
state  more  receptive  of  illumination  and  inspiration  ;  a 
more  fluent  inner  life.  Psyche  winged  instead  of  fet- 
tered— soaring,  not  imprisoned  in  the  clay  she  dwells 
with.  It  is  the  difference  between  a  Damascus  blade 
and  one  of  English  steel.  In  the  one,  quality  is  subor- 
dinate to  material — in  the  other  material  is  subordinate 
to  quality.  Through  the  greater  complexity  comes 
more  complex  power  in  the  nicer  shades  of  action  which 
identical  faculties  exhibit.      One  is  a  color,  the  other  a 


TITE    ORGANIC    ARGUMENT.  75 

blending  of  many  hues.  By  reason  of  this  nicer  struc- 
ture there  is  also  present  a  larger  proportion  of  that 
element  of  nerve-substance  which  is  the  ultimate  mate- 
rial source  of  organic  power,  the  operative  force  of  the 
whole  mechanism,  the  principal  which  employs  the 
medullary  substance  and  trunks  as  its  agents  and  mes- 
sengers. Every  added  convolution  spreads  a  surface 
for  this  vestment,  whose  presence  invites  the  gods,  and 
provides  their  feast.     . 

Again ;  nerve-tissue  grows  finer,  both  in  character 
and  function,  in  proportion  as  the  place  it  occupies  is 
exalted  in  the  organization.  Thus  the  top-brain  is 
finer  in  ultimate  structure,  and  more  abundant  in  con- 
volutions, than  the  medial,  this  than  the  basilar,  the 
cerebrum  than  the  cerebellum,  and  either  of  these  than 
the  ganglia  ;  the  ganglia  than  the  nerve-trunks.  The 
masculine  type  gives  breadth,  volume,  in  the  middle 
and  basilar  regions,  and  is  narrowed  at  the  top.  The 
nisus  is  toward  animal  development :  The  feminine 
type  reverses  these  proportions  :  slender  base,  long 
antero-posterior  and  vertical  diameters,  expanded  top ; 
nisus  toward  the  super-animal  life.  It  is  the  crown  of 
her  head  which  is  the  autocrat  of  her  intellectual  and 
physical  powers:  it  is  the  base  of  man's.  Now  inter- 
pret these  facts  by  the  invariable  law  that  size  is  (cet. 
par.)  the  measure  of  power,  and  that  power  is  the 
divine,  infallible  appointment  to  use,  and  we  shall  see 
that  harmony  in  use  as  well  as  in  form,  requires  that 
the  female  head  should  be  smaller,  since  an  equal 
quantity  of  brain  of  the  finer  quality  would  cause  the 
destruction  instead  of  the  development  and  sustained 
capacity  of  the  lesser  and  more  delicate  body. 

I  am  aware  that  Tiedeman,  an  authority  not  to  be 
lightly  questioned,  affirms  the  larger  relative  size,  at 


76  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

this  time,  of  the  female  brain.  I  know  not  what  his 
evidences  are,  nor  with  how  much  care  they  were 
taken,  but  in  their  absence  it  seems  highly  probable 
that  some  error  may  have  crept  into  the  statistical  cal- 
culations on  which  such  a  statement  would  have  to  be 
based.  For,  beside  the  grounds  for  doubting  it  which 
we  have  seen  above,  there  remains  this  strong  one, 
viz:  that  use  is  the  condition  of  full  normal  volume 
in  any  organ  or  system,  and  that  the  female  brain  has 
never  yet  had.  Learning,  ideas,  necessity  of  mental 
solution  of  questions  before  her — questions  them- 
selves— action,  such  as  drives  the  bounding  brain 
against  its  inclosing  walls,  with  a  demand  for  their 
enlargement,  and  sets  all  the  little  sappers  and  miners 
in  its  employ  at  work  to  compass  its  release,  these 
have  never  yet  come  into  the  destiny  of  Woman.  Their 
day  has  dawned,  but  has  not  passed  its  dawn.  Its 
record  is  not  yet  imprinted  upon  the  cerebral  constitu- 
tion of  the  sex.  I  think,  therefore,  in  the  absence  of 
positive  proof,  the  assertion  must  be  regarded  as  at  the 
least  admitting  of  question.  And  on  the  other  hand, 
when  men,  in  their  treatment  of  Physiology,  Moral  and 
Intellectual  Science,  the  development  and  resources 
of  human  society,  and  other  kindred  subjects,  tell  us 
with  an  oracular  wisdom  which  cuts  off  appeal,  which 
assumes  to  be  incapable  of  error  on  so  weighty  and 
well-considered  a  question,  that  Woman,  with  many 
of  the  very  finest  elements  of  humanity  controlling  her 
character,  unquestionable  commission  to  its  very  high- 
est and  most  responsible  offices,  is  man's  inferior  in 
brain-power,  because  her  brain  is  smaller  than  his,  it  is 
very  much  as  if  a  Chinese  savant  should  pronounce 
oracularly  upon  human  development,  present  and  pros- 
pective, from  the  premises  furnished  by  his  country- 


THE    ORGANIC    ARGUMENT.  77 

men  alone.     It  is  probable  that  the  outside  barbarians 
would  dissent  from  his  views. 

The  error,  and  it  seems  to  have  become  imbedded 
in  the  masculine  thought  as  firmly  as  the  earliest  fossil 
in  its  native  stratum,  lies  in  assuming  man  as  the 
standard,  and  his  era  as  embodying  the  purest  and 
most  permanent  forms  of  human  good,  and  as  working 
according  to  the  highest  laws  of  the  human  constitu- 
tion. But  the  king  of  Dahomey  respects  his  own 
statesmanship  and  sees  no  better  methods  or  aims  than 
those  which  he  employs.  It  is  wisely  ordered  that  we 
shall  honor  our  work,  while  it  remains  to  us  for 
doing. 

Of  the  extra-cranial  nervous  system,  not  many  words 
are  needed  to  prove  Woman's  superior  relative  endow- 
ment in  it.  Popular  ignorance  even  understands  this — 
the  higher  sensibility,  the  more  quickly  responsive  cen- 
ters, the  numerous  foci  which  receive  impressions,  the 
finer  co-ordinating  power  in  the  organic  functions,  the 
infinitely  multiplied  capacities  of  suffering,  each  of  which 
is  the  abnormal  side  of  a  capacity  for  enjoying  and 
doing — a  reverse  whose  obverse  is  life  and  power  con- 
joined— all  prove  her  pre-eminence  here. 

But  beyond  the  system  common  to  both  sexes,  the 
feminine  has  herein  its  own  exclusive  endowments  in 
the  superior-maternal  organs.  These  are  sometimes 
spoken  of  by  the  profession  best  acquainted  with  them, 
as  plexuses  of  nerves  in  and  of  themselves,  and  every 
possessor  of  them  who  has  become  advised  of  their  ex- 
treme sensibility,  through  its  diseased  action,  knows 
that  it  is  by  no  violent  figure  of  speech  they  are  so 
named.  For  the  suffering  they  may  occasion  has  so 
many  characters,  and  each  may  be  so  intense,  so  exqui- 
site, so  torturing  to  sense  and*  faculty,  that  they  make, 


78  WOMAN    AND    HER  EEA. 

of  themselves  a  wide  pathological  world,  of  which 
Woman  is  the  sole  occupant — one  of  whose  functions  it 
seems  to  be  to  test  and  measure  the  utmost  powers  of 
human  endurance.  Fire  and  rack  need  not  be  applied 
to  Woman  to  prove  her  courage.  These  are  fire  and 
rack  for  her,  attacking  where  there  is  neither  passion, 
nor  glory,  nor  heroism,  nor  the  secret  sympathy  of  a 
party  or  a  nation  to  sustain  her  against  them.  She  is 
to  suffer  alone,  and  the  ages  are  not  invited  to  look 
back  and  celebrate  her  fortitude.  But  a  pathological 
can  only  come  through  a  physiological  possibility. 
Exclusiveness  in  suffering  is  exclusiveness  in  power. 

When,  therefore,  men  congratulate  themselves  as 
being  superior  to  Woman  because  of  their  exemption 
from  the  suffering  and  disabilities  peculiar  to  her,  it  is 
the  Orang  conGratulatino;  himself  that  he  can  never 
lose  the  cunning  right  hand  which  may  make  a  watch 
or  a  telescope,  and  so  bring  the  rolling  heavens' into 
the  observatory.  Much  man  does  escape  surely,  but 
there  is  not  an  atom  of  this  advantage  that  is  not 
balanced  by  the  lack  of  power  whose  presence  would 
make  it  impossible.  Superior  for  his  position  and 
work  on  the  earth  man  undoubtedly  is,  in  his  exclu- 
sion from  woman's  pathological  world,  as,  for  the  same 
reason,  the  fish  is  superior  to  him  for  swimming  in  the 
sea,  the  bird  for  the  upper  air,  the  beast  of  pre}7  for  the 
severe  exigencies  of  predatory  life  in  the  forest ;  but 
superior  in  his  position  and  work,  no,  except  less  be 
reckoned  better  than  more,  lower  than  higher.  Supe- 
riority for  a  place  is  the  most  exact  fitness  for  the  uses 
which  make  up  its  activities.  The  worm  crawls  better 
than  the  child  ;  there  is  no  waste  of  material,  power  or 
purpose  in  its  action.  But  superiority  in  place  is 
quite  another  thing,  which  Xature  determines  infalli- 


THE    ORGANIC    ARGUMENT.  79 

bly  by  the  number  and  variety  of  powers  she  invests 
in  the  being.  The  animate  creation  is  a  scale  by 
reason  of  higher  and  lower,  and  positions  upon  it  are 
graduated  by  the  addition  of  capacities.  The  sum  of 
these  in  any  type  is  the  physiology  of  that  type,  to 
which  its  pathology  bears  an  exact,  invariable  propor- 
tion. So  that  we  are  fairly  entitled  to  wonder  why, 
between  the  Physiologists  and  the  Pathologists,  Wo- 
man's true  position  should  not  long  ago  have  been  dis- 
covered ;  still  more  why  Pathology  encourages  man  to 
ling  in  a  self-complacent  exemption,  (which  it  is  almost 
ludicrous  that  he  does  not  see  to  be  exclusion  instead), 
from  the  widest  pathological  world,  the  notion  of  his 
own  superiority.  He  could  only  set  foot  therein  by 
becoming  physiologically  the  equal  of  Woman,  and 
can  only  be  excluded  by  being  in  the  same  sense  her 
inferior.  But  it  is  not  for  us  to  complain  of  this,  for  it 
is  no  less  true  now  than  ever  it  was,  and  no  less  a 
beneficent  truth  here  than  anywhere,  that 

"  who  would  be  free  themselves  must  strike  the  blow." 

From  what  we  have  seen  of  the  constitution  of  the 
feminine,  we  are  now  able  to  form  some  not  incorrect 
idea  of  its  true  place  in  the  world  of  action.  Some- 
what, however,  remains  to  be  said,  of  definite  applica- 
tion to  this  point ;  which,  in  these  years  of  struggle  for 
Woman,  is  practically,  perhaps,  the  most  vexed  feature 
of  the  vast  question  we  are  endeavoring  to  solve.  Shall 
Woman  in  action  be  Man  ;  shall  she  liken  herself  as 
nearly  as  possible  to  him  in  corporeal  capacities,  hence 
of  course  in  the  tastes  which  control  and  influence 
him,  as  far  as  he  is  altogether  pure  and  manly  in 
them?  Yes,  by  all  means,  promptly  answers  one 
earnest  party.    No,  by  no  means,  as  promptly  answers 


80  WOMAN    AND    HEK    ERA. 

another.  The  affirmative  comes  from  progress,  the 
negative  from — the  other  side.  What  says  Nature? 
If  we  attend  to  her  we  shall  get  our  question  answered ; 
not  quite  by  yes  or  no,  however. 

To  us  who  love  movement,  whose  very  breath  of 
life  it  is  to  be  pressing  forward  to  something  not  yet 
attained,  it  may  be  a  little  mortifying  to  find  that  Na- 
ture will  not  quite  turn  her  back  upon  that  other  side ; 
that  she  will  not,  according  to  our  order  plainly  given, 
flout  the  party  who  says  no,  to  the  question  we  would 
so  eagerly  settle  by  yes.  And  to  save  ourselves  similar 
experiences  in  future,  we  may  as  well  here  and  now,  ac- 
knowledge that  there  must  be  a  measure  of  truth  in 
any  order  of  things  that  obtains  universally  in  human 
society  and  runs  from  age  to  age.  If  Nature  had 
intended  that  Woman  should  be  man  in  her  corporeal 
life,  not  only  would  she  have  done  Woman  the  justice 
to  make  her  man  in -physical  ability,  but  she  would 
have  given  her  those  mental  forces  conjoined  with  it, 
that  would  have  upheaved  the  rocky  ribs  of  the  globe 
itself,  to  burst  from  their  imprisonment  and  assume 
their  position.  I  grant  Woman's  slavery,  but  had  it 
been  such  slavery,  the  universe  could  not  have  held  her 
in  it  all  over  the  globe  she  has  inhabited.  The  super- 
posed life  would  have  been  rent  in  its  weak  places,  (of 
which  there  have  been  plenty),  to  give  ^ent  to  her 
resisting  power.  Europe  would  have  had  its  half-dozen 
volcanoes  playing  in  concert  or  alternately,  and  the 
Western  World  have  been  one  mere  huge  "chimney, 
since  the  second  or  third  generation  whence  we  can 
date  the  organic  existence  of  its  society. 

Woman  has  been,  is  now  enslaved,  but  emancipa- 
tion lies  not  in  that  direction.  Her  slavery  has 
accorded  with  her  nature  in  part :  it  has  not  been  a 


THE   ORGANIC   ARGUMENT.  81 

pure  violence  to  it.  Tims  its  physical  features  express, 
in  a  crude,  exaggerated,  irreverent,  distorted  fashion  it 
must  be  confessed,  the  truth  of  her  physical  inferiority 
to  man,  and  dependence  on  him  for  the  material  goods 
of  life,  while  certain  features  of  the  spiritual  oppression 
she  has  suffered,  have  even  more  poorly  and  clumsily 
shadowed  forth  her  relation  of  spiritual  superiority 
over  him. 

Other  things  being  equal,  size  is  the  measure  of 
power,  says  the  authority  of  Natural  Science,  in  com- 
paring one  being  with  another.  Let  us  apply  this 
plain,  concise  law,  first  to  a  comparison  of  Man  with 
Woman,  in  reference  to  the  physical  capacities  of  each, 
and  next  to  a  comparison  of  the  powers  of  each  among 
themselves. 

Man  is  larger  in  stature  than  Woman.  This  is 
the  first  condition  of  the  possession  of  greater  power,  in 
those  kinds  which  mere  volume  may  confer.  But  his 
large  size  is  made  up  of  a  greater  relative  proportion 
of  the  osseous  and  fibrous  tissues,  the  chief  instruments 
of  personal  strength.  Thus  he  is  not  only  stronger  by 
size  as  a  whole,  but  also  by  possession  of  special  means 
employed  to  give  this  attribute.  But  there  is  a  third 
feature  of  his  physique  still  more  characteristic  of  3ns 
personal  gifts  and  place  in  the  world  of  corporeal  ac- 
tion. The  value  of  this  action  is  derived  from  its 
adaptation  to  produce  certain  results.  The  results  re- 
quired of  the  sovereign  human  action  thus  far,  have 
been  those  which  only  the  strong  arm  and  the  large 
vital  apparatus  could  secure.  King  here  must,  there- 
fore, not  only  be  superior  in  stature  and  relatively  more 
fibrous  and  osseous  than  subject,  but  he  must  have 
those  proportions  predominant  in  his  structure  which 
fix  his   characteristic   power  in  the   chest  and   arms. 


82  WOMAH    AND    IIEE    EEA. 

These  proportions  are  uniform  in  the  masculine  body 
all  the  world  over,  among  all  types  and  races.  It  is  by 
their  permanence  that  he  holds  his  place  of  lord  of  the 
material  creation.  Were  they  to  depart  from  him  the 
scepter  would  fall  from  his  hand.  Xo  matter  where 
else  it  should  go,  it  could  not  stay  with  him.  Tor  Xa- 
ture's  commission  to  take  and  hold  the  throne  of  the 
physical  world,  to  reign  over  it  undisputed  lord,  in  a 
sovereignty  growing  more  and  more  complete  with  the 
advance  of  every  age,  is  signed  and  sealed  to  man  in 
this  form  of  his  body.  ~No  other  authority  could  place 
him  there,  and  holding  this,  no  other  can  come  in  to 
dispute  his  sway.  There  is  a  paramount  power  or  sys- 
tem of  powers  in  every  life ;  the  corporeal  man's  are 
here.  To  exterminate,  subdue,  overcome,  remove,  re- 
fine, recast,  develop,  educe,  are  the  grand  ends  of 
physical  action  in  man.  Material  Kature  is  put  into 
his  hands  crude,  coarse,  crabbed,  barren,  wild.  He  is 
endowed  to  transform  her  by  his  labor.  He  loves  the 
work,  because  that  great  body  is  a  reservoir  of  power 
created  expressly  that  it  might  be  done,  and  power  is 
in  itself  a  love  of  use.  That  capacious  chest,  those 
well-spread  shoulders,  those  rugged  arms  are  each  a 
burning  passion  to  lay  hold  and  do  somewhat.  To  fell 
the  forest,  to  quarry  the  stones,  to  fence  and  plow  the 
fields,  to  build  the  houses,  to  open  the  roads,  to  con- 
struct the  ships  and  set  the  lawless  ocean  and  the  re- 
bellious winds  at  work  like  disciplined  apprentices  for 
him  ;  to  pry  like  a  law-making  burglar  into  the  most 
private  apartments,  to  open  the  rock-ribbed  safes  where 
treasure  is  deposited,  and  drag  it  forth ;  to  mine,  to 
blast,  to  pull  down  and  to  pile  up,  to  bring  remote 
continents  shoulder  to  shoulder,  and  mingle  distant 
oceans ;  to  thread  wildernesses,  to  explore  frozen  seas 


THE    ORGANIC    ARGUMENT.  83 

and  torrid  lands,  to  send  mountains  into  the  main  and 
compel  waters  to  give  up  the  land  ;  to  build  cities, 
prosecute  wars,  invent  implements  of  destruction,  and 
use  them  when  invented  ;  to  construct  machinery,  and 
compel  its  obedience  to  his  will  when  made,  to  sub- 
ject powerful  animals,  and  destroy  ferocious  and 
noxious  onesr  to  organize  governments,  ecclesiastical 
and  social  systems,  and  play  with  them  by  the  power 
of  the  strong  arm,  the  unflinching  body,  and  the  reso- 
lute brain;  to  watch  the  phenomena  of  Nature  pa- 
tiently, year  after  year,  as  the  ox  pulls  at  his  draft — 
these  are  some  of  the  chief  ends  of  the  application  of 
masculine  power.  Intellect  subserves  this  physical  ac- 
tion by  discovery,  investigation,  and  invention  ;  moral 
sentiment  directs  it ;  religious  feeling  purifies,  softens, 
and  ennobles  it,  but  it  is  mainly,  sensibly,  appreciably 
bounded  within  the  limits  of  these  motives,  so  far  as  the 
common  consciousness  of  the  masculine  life  is  impressed 
by  and  to  it.  The  deeper  consciousness  dwelling 
in  rarer  souls,  and  in  rarer  hours  of  common  souls,  is 
not  denied — the  prophets  those,  the  prophetic  experi- 
ences these,  of  an  ultimate  manhood.  But  herein  are 
contained  the  conscious  purpose  toward  life  and  its 
interests,  personal  and  social,  of  the  great,  unindivid- 
uated  man. 

Thus  in  corporeal  capacities  man  is  man  by  virtue 
of  these  three  anatomical  facts :  superiority  in  stature, 
superiority  in  muscular  and  osseous  tissue,  and  pre- 
dominance of  development  in  the  upper  portion  of  the 
trunk  and  its  appendages,  the  arms :  and  by  all  these 
gifts  he  is  appointed  to  the  external  offices  we  have 
seen  to  be  his,  in  fact. 

Has  Woman  any  characteristic  form  which  equally 
interprets  Nature's  purpose  in  her  corporeal  constitu- 


84  WOMAN    AND    IIER    ERA. 

tion  ?  It  need  not  be  said  in  answer,  that  the  smaller 
stature  indicates  a  less  measure  of  strength  in  the  whole, 
nor  that  the  less  amount  of  bone  and  muscle,  relatively 
to  the  softer  tissues,  is  also  in  perfect  accord  with  this 
fact.  These  things  will  be  understood,  and  we  may 
pass  at  once  to  study  the  characteristic  proportions  of 
the  feminine  body  as  indicating  its  paramount  powers 
and  office. 

We  find  the  largest  development  here,  opposed  to 
that  of  the  masculine  body,  viz :  in  the  pelvic  region 
of  the  trunk.  This  is  a  plain  declaration  of  Nature 
that  she  has  assigned  to  this  region  the  paramount 
corporeal  office  of  the  life,  that  one  which  is  to  subor- 
dinate all  others  and  make  them  means  to  itself  as 
end.  This  office  is  Maternity,  of  which  the  chief  or- 
gans have  their  place  here,  and  are  so  constituted  and 
related  as  to  draw  hither,  from  the  outlying  kingdom 
of  the  life,  whatever  is  needful  to  them,  becoming,  in 
the  periods  of  their  full  use,  the  focus  of  all  the  power, 
action,  sensibility,  susceptibility,  life,  movement,  force 
of  the  general  system,  which  they  can  appropriate. 

Man  is  created  to  externalize  his  power  from  the 
moment  it  issues  from  its  source,  be  it  brain,  muscle, 
nerve,  gland,  or  viscera.  When  it  leaves  the  fountain 
it  must  take  a  form  external  to  his  life,  whatever  that 
form  be,  and  henceforth  his  control  over  it  is  modified, 
circumscribed,  hindered,  or  it  may  be  altogether  de- 
stroyed. Is  he  a  creator  ?  He  must  create  in  the  exter- 
nal, cold,  confused,  jarring  world,  where  Nature 
affords  him  no  sacred  privacy.  She  turns  him  off  as 
an  apprentice  or  journeyman,  to  take  his  chances  in  the 
rough  and  tumble  of  outside  opportunity.  And  accord- 
ingly he  never  opens  his  mouth  but  to  complain  that 
his  work  is  inferior  to  his  thought,  the  object  to  his 


THE   ORGANIC   ARGUMENT.  85 

conception  of  it.  But  to  Woman  is  given  an  inmost, 
sacred  chamber,  whose  beams  are  laid  in  light,  whose 
living  walls  define  a  kingdom  within  her  life,  wherein 
may  assemble,  as  to  a  heavenly  convocation,  the  grand- 
est harmonies  she  is  capable  of  feeling  or  receiving,  the 
noblest  aspirations  she  can  know,  the  most  tender,  di- 
vine hopes,  the  sweetest  compassions,  the  loftiest  pur- 
poses. Around  the  conception  maturing  in  the  sanctity 
of  this  seclusion,  may  circle  the  purest  and  most  kind- 
ling ideals,  for  her  help  ;  and  here  at  the  gates,  if  they 
be  kept  open  and  pure,  sits  the  soul  to  shine  in  and 
illuminate  the  illustrious  work.  It  is  proceeding  on 
the  truest  principles  of  art:  the  Divine  Method,  of 
working  from  a  center,  and  is  the  only  art  in  which  it 
is  given  to  humanity  to  surpass  its  conception,  because 
the  only  one  which  is  so  deeply  interior  in  human  life, 
that  Nature,  if  she  is  not  resisted  or  repelled  by  cor- 
ruption, selfishness,  perversity,  or  ignorance,  can  be 
said  to  work  in  absolute  accord,  as  one  indeed,  with  the 
will  which  is  carrying  it  forward.  Its  highest  success 
is  the  most  complete  reservation  of  the  power  and 
means  given  for  its  performance — a  reservation  that 
must  proceed,  not  from  self-love  in  any  form,  but  from 
religious  reverence  for  its  own  greatness,  above  every- 
thing else  that  is  possible  to  be  compared  with  it. 

Now  the  manner  of  this  reservation,  as  to  the  higher 
capacities,  is  one  of  the  most  delicate  and  beautiful  of 
Nature's  evidences  for  the  divinity  of  the  feminine.  Cor 
it 'is  their  largest  and  most  religious  employment,  both 
subjectively  in  thought,  and  objectively  in  action,  that 
is  consistent  with  the  highest  attainable  health  of  body 
and  spirit ;  and  as  to  the  lower,  it  is  their  use  always 
in  subordination  to  this  highest  claim.  It  is  the  nature 
of  spiritual  power  pre-eminently,  that  use  is  the  condi- 


80  WOMAN    AND    HER    EEA. 

tion  of  its  increase.  (By  spiritual  power  here  is  meant 
every  capacity  of  the  human  life  above  the  purely  cor- 
poreal.) And  thus  she  reserves  her  higher  maternal 
forces  most  effectually,  who  lives  in  the  clearest  thought 
she  is  capable  of,  the  most  tender,  loving  emotions,  and 
the  divinest  purposes ;  all  which  are  essential  to  rela- 
tions of  wise,  womanly  service,  and  true,  unselfish, 
womanly  endeavor. 

This  conclusion  touching  the  paramount  corporeal 
office  of  the  feminine,  is  irresistible  from  the  applica- 
tion of  the  law  of  size,  in  comparing  the  various  parts 
with  each  other.  It  is  a  necessity  of  Woman's  being, 
in  filling  this  office,  to  give  herself  to  it,  body  and 
spirit,  in  a  supreme  degree  ;  and,  (harmonizing  with  its 
prime  importance  in  the  divine  plan  for  humanity),  it 
is  no  less  the  sex's  necessity,  out  of  the  office,  to  regard 
its  physical  powers  as  primarily  and  supremely  pledged 
hereto.  No  female  having  the  capacity  for  motherhood 
has  a  right  to  renounce  it  ;  and  none  who  does  not  re- 
nounce it  has  a  right  to  do  aught,  to  indulge  any  habit 
of  mind  or  body,  that  can  compromise  or  implicate  her 
perfect  integrity  and  completeness  herein.  She  is  per- 
fect in  individuality  in  proportion  as  she  is  perfect  for 
maternity,  hence  all  development  that  can  contribute 
to  these  ends,  all  industries,  all  recreations,  all  ease,  all 
discipline  that  can  be  made  helpful  here,  are,  of  right, 
and  for  her  own  and  humanity's  sake,  ought  practically 
to  he  hers  :  and  hence  equally,  exemption  from  all  those 
labors,  and  activities  of  every  sort,  which  call  for 
muscular  strength  in  the  executive,  effective  parts  and 
members,  the  chest  and  arms,  rather  than  for  light  ver- 
satile activity. 

"Woman  cannot  share  the  labors  which  are  suited 
to  man,  excej^t  as  an  inferior  in  them,  and  as  the  sub- 


i  III:    ORGANIC    ARGUMENT.  87 

ject  of  consequences  which  are  penalties  of  the  mis- 
demeanor. These  appear  in  depreciation  in  the 
individual  and  in  her  progeny.  The  personal  degen- 
eracy exhibits  itself  in  a  departure  from  the  feminine 
type  and  an  approach  to  the  masculine.  Beauty  is 
lost,  with  grace,  harmony  of  proportion,  elegance  of 
outline,  fluency  of  motion.  The  shoulders  broaden, 
the  arms  become  muscular  and  rugged  instead  of  round 
and  smooth,  the  articulating  processes  enlarge,  and  the 
whole  structure  approximates  the  angular,  knobby  cha- 
racter of  the  masculine  form.  The  psychical  life  follows 
in  the  downward  track.  Fineness  of  organic  sensi- 
bility gone,  fineness  of  mental  action,  whether  in  the 
intellectual  or  afunctional  faculties,  follows.  The  unna- 
tural corporeal  action  has  robbed  the  nobler  organs, 
the  brain  and  nerve-centers,  of  their  due  supply  of  vital 
forces,  and  the  standards  of  life  are  invariably  lowered 
as  a  consequence.  She  is  dull  who  should  be  vivacious, 
heavy  who  should  be  sprightly — the  inner  light  is 
smoldering,  not  blazing;  the  inner  chambers  are  dark 
and  cold. 

And  it  is  not  simply  in  overtaxing  her  muscular 
powers  that  Woman's  corporeal  nature  is  violated.  She 
will  suffer  almost  equally  if  there  is  demanded  of  her 
a  hind  of  action  for  which  she  is  not  made.  Strength 
in  man  comes  from  muscle  and  nerve-tissue,  in  a  cer- 
tain relative  proportion.  The  muscular  man  is  capable 
of  sustained,  repeated  motion,  employing  the  same  or- 
gans for  ten  hours  of  the  twenty-four.  He  is  of  the 
Bos  or  Equine  fiber  in  this  respect,  and  chops  wood, 
quarries  stone,  or  cuts  the  harvest,  with  as  little  sense 
of  violation  of  his  physical  capacity  in  these  labors  as 
the  ox  or  the  horse  in  pulling  at  the  draught.  But 
physical  power  in  ^Woman  comes  from  another  combi- 


83  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

nation  of  these  elements.  She  is  more  of  the  bird  or 
insect  type.  Her  capacities  come  more  from  nerve- 
tissue  than  muscular  fiber ;  hence  she  demands  con- 
stant and  frequent  change  of  position  and  action.  She 
never  spontaneously  takes  to  the  bearing  of  dead  bur- 
thens. Her  living  child  she  will  often  carry  with  less 
fatigue  than  a  man  with  four-fold  strength,  because  the 
frequency  of  change  demanded  by  the  burthen,  while  it 
harmonizes  with  her  versatile  capacities,  worries  his 
more  stolid  power. 

Both  these  truths  of  Woman  are  abundantly  illus- 
trated in  the  condition  of  women  of  the  savage  and 
barbarous  races  and  nations ;  and  scarcely  less,  to  our 
humiliation  be  it  said,  in  that  of  millions  whom  we  are 
accustomed  to  regard  as  enjoying  the  privileges  of 
Christian  civilization — the  field-peasants,  the  serfs  and 
chattel-slaves  of  Christendom,  together  with  large 
classes  of  operatives  in  every  commercial  and  manufac- 
turing nation.  The  departure  in  personal  development 
from  the  true  feminine  type,  which  these  women 
exhibit,  confirms  more  than  I  have  asserted  here  of 
Woman's  peculiar  traits,  capacities,  and  claims,  in  the 
industrial  departments  of  life.  They  have  rarely  any- 
thing like  beauty  in  their  youth ;  their  maturity  and 
age  are  haghood.  They  have  lost  the  typical  attributes 
of  womanhood,  they  can  but  distantly  approach  those 
of  manhood ;  hence  by  the  time  they  reach  maturity, 
they  are  physically  monsters  in  form,  and  spiritually 
such  in  their  natures — being  somewhere  between  man- 
hood and  womanhood,  without  the  graces  or  gifts  of 
either. 

Say  that  the  net  profits  balance  these  losses — that 
so  many  acres  in  the  harvest — so  many  tuns  of 
wine — so   many  bales  of  cotton — so   many   yards  of 


THE   OEGANIC   ARGUMENT.  80 

clotli  compensate  fur  what  has  gone  in  their  produc- 
tion :  Bay  that  individual  wealth,  national  prosperity, 
and  the  power  which  comes  from  them — exchange  in 
our  favor,  laden  ships  plowing  every  sea,  are  more 
worth  than  all  we  have  given  for  them  in  these  lost 
womanlinesses ;  is  the  balance  struck  so  between  us 
and  Nature  %  By  no  means.  For  these  are  not  all 
that  she  will  take  if  we  press  this  bargain  upon  her. 
On  the  contrary  they  are  but  a  small  part  of  her  terms 
in  it.  She  will  add  to  them  with  an  inexorable  stern- 
ness, EUPROY  ABILITY  IX   THE    PROGENY  OF    THESE  WOMEN. 

It  is  the  great  guarantee  of  right  to  the  mothers  that 
wrong  to  them  is  wrong  to  their  children.  Society 
must  respect  its  own  well-being.  Men  are  born  of 
women,  and  Nature  has  issued  an  edict,  in  the  relation 
between  mother  and  child,  which  compels  man,  as  he 
becomes  enlightened  so  as  to  read  it,  to  study  justice 
to  her  that  he  may  get  it  himself  from  her. 

Honor  to  Womanhood — reverence  far  Maternity, 
and  the  treatment  which  springs  from  these  sentiments 
as  elements  of  the  social  system,  are  conditions  of  per- 
mcmency  in  any  people,  nation,  or  race. 

Wherever  these  have  not  prevailed,  as  in  the  Asia- 
tics, or  wherever  the  human  nature  is  incapable  of 
rising  to  them  practically,  as  the  South  Sea  savages 
and  the  American  Indians,  stagnation  is  a  characteris- 
tic, or  obliteration  the  destiny  of  that  people.  For 
whatever  their  physical  perfection,  or  their  intellectual 
vigor  and  ability — and  there  is  no  lack  of  either  among 
our  Aborigines — they  lack  the  distinctively  human,  pr<  >- 
gressive,  enduring  element  which  must  come  from  the 
feminine  :  i.  e.,  they  lack  the  saving  measure  of  it.  For 
this  cannot  be  embodied  in  a  people  so  entirely  mascu- 
line as  must  be  those  born  of  mothers  whom  no  chivab 


90  WOMAN    AND    LIER    ERA. 

rous  sentiment  has  ever  recognized,  no  chance  ray  of 
light  ever  illuminated ;  whom  not  even  the  poor  frag- 
ments and  crumbs  of  a  better  theory  ever  strengthened 
to  lift  their  heads  up  out  of  the  darkness  and  coldness 
of  their  servitude — to  whom  the  dimmest  conception  of 
a  truer  position  never  comes,  and  struggle  for  it  is  an 
utter  impossibility. 

The  old  Civilizations,  lacking  many  other  things, 
lacked  most  fatally  of  all,  Womanhood  in  this,  its  crown- 
ing power.  They  might  have  survived  their  other  de- 
fects, and  grown  into  permanence,  had  they  so  honored 
Woman  practically  that  her  nature  could  embody  itself 
in  the  people.  But  this  was  nowhere  the  case  with 
any  of  them.  The  Intellectual  system  of  Egypt  paid 
her  no  deference,  as  Woman  or  Mother,  that  secured 
her  any  of  the  practical  benefits  of  the  life  she  shared. 
It  worshiped  the  feminine  supremely  in  its  mythology, 
while  it  trampled  its  living  women  into  the  dirt  as 
slaves,  or  corrupted  them  into  mistresses  of  its  lowest 
pleasures.  There  was  neither  the  sentiment,  philoso- 
phy, nor  moral  feeling  in  the  brightest  days  of  Egypt, 
that  could  save  an  individual  woman  of  any  rank  from 
the  grossest  injustice  which  man  chose  to  inflict  on  her, 
or  her  sex  from  the  shame  and  degradation  of  absolute 
slavery  to  his  lusts.  The  Mother  was  the  inferior ;  the 
slave,  the  drudge  :  the  courtesan  was  the  star,  the 
sovereign,  the  pampered  mistress  of  all  that  she  could 
desire.     Influence  went  with  this  lot,  not  with  that. 

The  artistic  system  of  Greece  was  little  better  in 
these  features.  Eor  Art  here  sprang  from  the  senses, 
and  labored  to  satisfy  their  demands.  Physical  perfec- 
tion was  sought,  it  is  true,  but  as  end,  not  means ;  and 
hence  corruption  in  and  of  Woman  was  a  shameless 
glaring  feature  of  the  social  state.     Eor  it  is  indisputa- 


THE    OKGANIC    ABGDliENT.  91 

Lie  that  wherever  art  stops  at  this  aim,  its  highest  per- 
fection but  contributes  to  establish  the  more  refined 
domination  of  the  appetites  ;  its  appeals  to  the  senses 
are  the  more  despotic  the  more  they  exhibit  exquisite 
ideals  of  the  physical,  which  convey  no  suggestion  of 
a  nobler  aim  and  destiny  than  its  perfection  and  satis- 
faction. In  Greece,  she  who  was  not  corrupt  was 
nothing  in  her  day.  She  saw  herself  eclipsed  every  ( 
hour  by  her  whose  power  over  the  senses,  whose  skill 
and  daring  in  its  exercise,  gave  its  possessor  an  influ- 
ence which  neither  genius,  intellect,  nor  goodness  could 
command,  apart  from  this  sensual  sway.  If  Woman  was 
worshiped,  it  was  for  her  capacity  in  perversion,  not 
in  truth  and  harmony,  to  command  and  minister  to 
man.  If  she  had  influence,  it  was  through  renunciation 
of  her  highest  and  truest  self,  and  the  acceptance  of  a 
scepter,  whose  very  touch  by  her  polluted  the  springs 
of  life  in  the  nation.  Holding  that  scepter,  and  wield- 
ing the  power  which  was  inseparable  from  it,  she  wrote 
with  her  own  fair  hand  the  decree  of  doom  over  the 
door  of  every  one  of  the  splendid  temples  that  adorned 
her  land.  Riches  of  genius,  science,  art,  philosophy, 
statesmanship,  generalship,  all  could  not  save  Greece, 
wanting  that  little-great  element  of  nationality,  hon- 
ored Maternity. 

Then  came  the  Roman  Civilization,  which  was  nei- 
ther intellectual  nor  artistic.  Xeither  speculative  and 
mystical  like  the  Egyptian,  nor  voluptuous  like  the 
Greek,  but  political,  it  lacked  equally  with  both  the 
one  essential  element  of  permanence.  True,  it  had  much 
that  they  had  not.  It  had  them.  Their  light  shone 
upon  it.  It  had  incalculable  wealth,  both  by  conquest 
and  industry ;  enormous  power  among  the  pigmy  na- 
tions; vast  armies,  eloquent  orators,  wise  jurists,  great 


92  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

statesmen,  scholars,  literati — generals  whose   renown 
rings  in  martial  souls  down  to  our  clay.     But  not  here 
either  can   Woman  get  or  do  herself  and  humanity 
honor.     Still  the  same  degrading  relations,  the  same 
insulting   sovereignty  offered,  nay,  forced  upon   her : 
Motherhood  an  inferior  condition  to  that  of  the  public 
woman  ;  the  few  who  honored  in  filling  it  being  cele- 
brated even  to  our  day — how  widely  separated  in  this 
from  the  mass  of  women,  it   is  easy  for  us  hence  to 
imagine.     When    Cornelia    and    the   Mother   of  the 
Gracchi  live  in  fame  two  thousand  years,  we  must  sup 
pose  that  these,  who  would  be  but  very  average  mothers 
of  later  times,  were  noticeable  contrasts  to  the  unheard 
of  Roman  wives.     So  the  imperishable  human  growth 
is  not  possible  in  Home  either.     Her  ]^eros  and  Yitel- 
liuses  were  because  the  mother  was  not,  and  Rome  too 
went  down  because  she  knew  not  that  the  compass 
which  could  guide  her  safely  over  the  seas  of  national 
peril,  trackless  though  so  often  traversed,  lay  in  her 
own  bosom,  or  was  hurtled  from  shame  to  shame  in  the 
pettiest  struggles  of  daily  life,  disregarded  or  despised 
by  the  proud  reason,  a  little  dreaded  by  the  finer  emo- 
tions, sought  and  wooed  only  by  the  baser  appetites. 

Imperishable  growth,  permanency  in  development, 
will  come  to  humanity  from  that  theory  of  woman- 
hood which  insures  to  Woman  a  system  of  treatment 
adequate  to  her  real  claims.  And  this  system  must  be 
founded,  not  in  pity,  not  in  justice,  not  in  generosity  to 
Woman,  but  in  her  actual  merits,  and  their  pure  appre- 
ciation by  man.  It  will  be  self-reverence  in  her  for  the 
greatness  of  her  office,  and  reverence  in  him.  Thus  only 
can  she  be  secured  against  oppression  by  man,  through 
the  demands  of  what  he  calls  his  "  inextinguishable 
appetites,"  or  through  the  low  superiority  in  corporeal 


THE    ORGANIC    ARGUMENT.  93 

strength  which  he  enjoys,  whereby  she  may  be  enslaved 
and  outraged,  whenever  he  wills  to  descend  to  the  rule 
of  brute  force. 

It  is  probable  that  we  shall,  ere  long,  arrive  at 
truer  views  of  Maternity  everywhere  ;  and  when  we 
do,  I  think  it  will  be  seen  that  the  office  has  a  sacred- 
ness  in  Nature's  eyes  above  all  other  offices,  and  that 
she  reserves  for  it  the  finest  of  her  vital  forces,  powers, 
susceptibilities,  and  means,  of  every  sort.  I  believe  it 
will  be  seen,  among  the  lower  animals,  that  improva- 
bility,  by  generation,  bears  a  uniform  proportion,  cet. 
par.,  to  the  deference  with  which  the  female  is  treated 
in  all  the  social  relations,  but  especially  in  those  which 
result  in  Maternity.  The  care  taken  of  valuable  ani- 
mals while  gestating,  is  a  proof  of  man's  under- 
standing, (dimly  and  unphilosophically  as  he  needs 
must,  when  the  intelligence  comes  through  that  varia- 
ble ganglion,  the  pocket),  the  importance  of  conscien- 
tious treatment  of  the  feminine  in  this  office.  He  will 
become  truly  wise  as  he  carries  this  up,  in  application, 
to  his  own  species,  and  makes  it  the  law  of  life  in  that 
higher  atmosphere  where  the  fine  woman-nature  dwells 
and  waits  in  this  divine  service.  Hence,  I  repeat,  that 
it  may  the  better  secure  the  attention  even  of  the  care- 
less, that  the  most  developed  self-hood  to  which  the 
human  mother  can  attain,  the  most  refined,  exalting, 
and  exalted  behavior  which  the  intellect  and  taste  of 
man  can  devise,  and  his  honor  stimulate  him  to  main- 
tain towards  her,  are  the  conditions  precedent  to  the 
appearance  on  our  earth  of  its  grandest  and  most  en- 
during humanity. 

It  is  plain,  from  what  we  have  already  seen  of  the 
feminine  organization,  that  Woman  possesses,  in  ;i  larger 


94  WOMAN    AND    IIEK    ERA. 

relative  measure  than  man,  those  life- attributes  which 
are  manifested  through  the  nervous  tissue.  One  of 
these  attributes,  which  claims  our  notice  here,  I  shall 
call  Susceptibility.  There  may  be  a  better  name  for 
it,  but  as  none  occurs  to  me  now,  we  wTill  adopt  this 
one. 

What  is  Susceptibility  %  It  is  that  capacity  of  the 
Organic  Life  through  which  wTe  hold  relations  with  the 
Objective  world.  It  is  the  material  side  of  the  mediator- 
ship  between  the  me  and  the  not  me.  It  is  the  avenue 
through  which  consciousness  is  reached,  and  according 
as  it  is  broad  or  narrow,  exalted  or  mean,  clear  or  ob- 
structed, will  be  the  amount  and  quality  of  that  which 
arrives  by  it.  For  although  all  that  is,  waits  alike  for 
each,  each  can  take  of  the  all  but  a  given  quantity. 
Our  rapport  with  Nature  is  limited  on  our  side,  not 
hers. 

Susceptibility  is  in  direct  proportion  to  nerve- 
endowment,  and  the  latter  being  a  characteristic  of  the 
feminine  organization,  this  is  equally  a  characteristic 
of  the  feminine  nature.  It  is  a  gift  dressed  mostly  in 
abnormal  guise  among  the  Women  of  Civilization  in 
this  day,  because  it  is  one  that  would  only  find  its  use 
in  a  condition  of  development  which  women  are  but 
just  approaching  ;  at  best  beholding  at  a  distance  rather 
than  realizing  as  a  state  to  be  enjoyed  by  them.  Hence 
it  is  the  ground  of  various  pretty  and  silly  affectations 
among  us,  and  of  some  harmless  amusement  to  men. 
beside  some  less  harmless  vexation,  when  it  appears 
unseasonably.  While  its  unbalanced  action  provokes 
half  the  weight  of  accusation  against  us  of  weak-mind- 
edness, its  deficiency  makes  the  anomalous  creature  of 
whom  we  have  lately  heard  so  much,  the  strong-minded 
woman.     It  may  surprise  some  persons  to  learn  it,  but 


HIE    ORGANIC    ARGUMENT.  95 

it  is  true  that  no  sneerer  at  strength  of  mind  in  woman 
feels  hie  taste  complimented  if  you  offer  him  a  weak- 
minded  one.  lie  protests  that  it  is  not  the  weakness 
of  mind  that  he  admires  or  asks  for,  although  he  does 
unequivocally,  and  with  little  delicacy  often,  object  to 
what  he  names  its  opposite.  Compelled  to  analyze  his 
own  thought,  he  is  puzzled  to  say  where,  exactly,  the 
difficulty  lies.  When  he  learns,  let  him  be  grateful  for 
the  knowledge.  It  lies  just  here — nowhere  else.  In 
the  one  this  quality  is  deficient ;  in  the  other  it  is, 
not  always  in  excess,  but  unbalanced  in  action  ;  whence 
a  neat,  snug  little  pathological  department,  where  the 
doctors  sustain  a  permanent  skirmishing  service  more 
or  less  vigilant,  with  the  small  arms  and  arts  of  their 
profession. 

Hysterics,  spasms,  convulsions,  are  the  more  serious 
features  of  this  service ;  nervousness,  fidgets,  whims, 
imaginations  its  more  playful  aspects.  Its  primary 
cause,  seen  in  either  of  these  forms,  is  counted  a  weak- 
ness in  Woman  which  man  is  proud  and  glad  to  dis- 
own. Again  it  is  self-gratulation,  exclusion  being 
complacently  mistaken  for  exemption.  For  the  strong- 
minded  woman  is  man  in  this  respect,  and  not  lovable 
therefore,  either  to  his  or  her  own  sex ;  and  the  not 
strong-minded  exempt  themselves  from  these  weak- 
nesses the  moment  they  turn  this  capacity  to  true  use 
in  their  nature.  Thus  a  really  suffering, feeble  woman, 
or  a  silly,  affected  one,  may  become  instantly  sublime 
in  heroism,  and  exhibit  the  constancy  that  makes  mar- 
tyrdom glorious.  For  Susceptibility  is  next  of  kin  to 
moral  courage,  and  they  two  dwell  side  by  side  as 
equals,  in  the  quality  called  Endurance.  There  is  no 
Endurance  without  Susceptibility;  there  cannot  be 
real  Susceptibility  without  moral  courage.     Wherefore 


90  WOMAN   AND    HER    ERA. 

it  is  often  seen, in  the  common  experiences  of  life,  that 
a  muscular  man,  coarse  in  the  grain  it  may  be,  of  huge 
frame,  but  stolid  withal,  will  utterly  fail  under  afflic- 
tions which  his  delicate  wife  will  bear,  for  herself  and 
him,  without  a  sign  of  faltering.  He  will  sink  down 
and  she  will  sustain  him,  and  each  feels  that  the  action 
of  each  is  according  to  Nature.  She  feels  it  more 
keenly,  but  that  fact  insures  her  bearing  it  more 
courageously,  and  having  sympathy  and  support  to 
spare  for  him. 

But  there  is  another  office  in  which  this  quality  has 
its  most  noble,  sacred,  and  indispensable  relation  to 
humanity,  viz :  in  its  ante-natal  development  and  edu- 
cation. The  Susceptibility  of  Woman  is  exalted  during 
this  period,  in  order  that  Objective  aid  may  be  joined 
to  the  Subjective  forces  of  her  life,  for  the  blessing  of 
her  unborn.  It  is  throwing  wider  open  the  windows, 
to  the  heavenly  airs  and  warmth  and  light,  and  inviting 
them  to  leave  beauty,  growth,  and  power  where  they 
visit.  The  most  exalted  use  which  the  riches  of  the 
universe  have  for  humanity,  is  that  they  contribute  to 
its  perfection,  and  this  Susceptibility  of  Woman  is  the 
largest  and  most  direct  means  provided  for  the  accom- 
plishment of  this  use.  Its  increase  in  the  times  of  ges- 
tation proves  its  true  character.  For  Nature  does  not 
weaken  her  ministers  in  the  times  when  they  most 
need  to  be  strengthened.  She  does  not  summon  ele- 
ments to  unsettle  the  life  when  she  would  have  it  most 
calm.  She  does  not  agitate,  except  to  produce  a  more 
perfect  equipoise.  She  does  not  exalt  the  Suscepti- 
bility to  absorb  the  power,  but  to  augment  and  give  it 
wider  relations. 

So  it  is  evident  that  when  Maternity  is  understood, 
it  will  be  a  primary  object  to  provide  the  more  open 


THE    ORGANIC    ARGUMENT. 


97 


receptivity  of  the  state  with  the  fullest  measure  of  the 
noblest  help  it  can  appropriate.  Beauty  will  be  sub- 
stituted for  ugliness,  peace  for  conflict,  gentleness  for 
harshness,  respect  for  neglect,  solicitude  for  indiffer- 
ence, reverence  for  curiosity  and  chilling  criticism ; 
harmony  everywhere  for  the  discords  which  have  so 
preyed  upon  and  benumbed  the  finest  creative  capaci- 
ties of  the  Mother.  Beautiful  landscapes,  persons, 
objects  ;  art,  social  refinements,  pure  manners,  relations 
which  inspire,  influences  which  kindle  the  aspirations 
and  sustain  them,  all  will  be  felt  to  be  her  due  who  is 
acting  in  God's  place,  with  the  appreciative  and  re- 
ceptive powers  kindled  to  their  highest  in  her  soul, 
that  she  may  the  more  perfectly  represent  Him,  as  the 
Mediator  of  His  elder  to  His  latest  work.  Of  how  much 
do  these  views  imply  the  withdrawal  from  the  daily 
life  and  experience  of  Woman !  Of  how  much  do 
they  suggest  the  introduction  there ! 

III.  Again,  there  is  a  class  of  phenomena  known 
to  the  physiologist — one  of  the  enigmas  which  Nature 
seems  to  have  amused  herself  by  proposing  for  his 
solution — under  the  name  of  Rudimentary  Organs. 
They  have  place  all  along  the  scale  in  both  kingdoms 
of  physiology :  they  appear  in  plants  and  trees,  in  rep- 
tiles, fishes,  quadrupeds,  and  man. — But  not  in  Woman. 
A  Rudimentary  organ  is  not  properly  an  organ,  since 
it  confers  no  capacity  or  function  on  its  possessor.  It 
is  an  appearance  bearing  resemblance  to  an  organ,  and 
uniformly  prophetic  in  its  character,  since  it  points  to 
a  following  being,  in  whom  the  appearance  will  become 
a  real  organ ;  in  whom  life  will  be  enlarged  by  the 
added  function  it  will  bestow. 

What  Nature  begins  she  intends  to  perfect,  but  she 
5 


98  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

sometimes  takes  the  scale  afforded  by  a  whole  type  to 
accomplish  her  well-deliberated  purpose.  Nor  is  she 
reticent  of  her  designs.  If  she  means  by-and-by,  sight, 
she  will  set  you  a  rudiment  of  an  eye  on  some  insignifi- 
cant head  as  blind  as  a  block ;  if  hearing,  she  will  hollow 
you  an  external  ear  on  some  head  as  deaf  as  a  stone ; 
if  walking,  she  will  put  you  a  pair  of  feet  under  the 
skin  of  the  serpent's  belly,  but  leave  him  to  the  same 
locomotion  with  his  brethren  who  lack  them.  She  is 
pre-occupied  with  her  ultimate  intentions,  and  thus 
apparently  jumps  at  them  in  her  present  work,  always 
however,  being  infallible  in  her  care  for  the  present. 
She  puts  her  hints  of  the  future  into  it,  but  they  are  so 
delicately  managed  as  never  .to  burthen  or  disfigure  it 
— often  they  give  it  some  measure  of  beauty,  the  beauty 
of  uniformity  when  no  other  is  possible. 

Now  the  attribute  of  the  order  to  which  man  be- 
longs, is  that  its  young  is  nourished  from  the  Maternal 
body,  during  the  period  of  infancy.  In  the  male 
mammal  the  apparatus  of  the  lactatory  office  is  hinted 
at  by  a  rudimentary  form.  Its  presence  gives  no  nor- 
mal power ;  no  capacity  of  action,  endowment,  or  suf- 
fering is  added  by  its  development.  Thus,  man  for 
example,  would  be  to  all  intents  and  purposes  for  which 
Nature  designed  him,  just  as  perfectly  man  without 
this  sign  upon  the  anterior  wall  of  the  thorax,  as  he  is 
with  it.  The  exceptional  development  of  the  function 
in  him,  proves  nothing  touching  the  argument,  since  it 
is  as  purely  an  abnormal  proceeding,  as  is  its  presence 
in  the  virgin  female  under  like  circumstances,  both,  (as 
is  authoritatively  affirmed),  having  taken  place  under 
exigencies  which  have  pressed  Nature  to  forego  her 
orderly,  spontaneous  methods.  And  beside,  if  the  ru- 
dimentary organ  contain  in  its  apparently  dead  tissues 


THE    ORGANIC    ARGUMENT.  99 

a  possible  life  and  use,  the  development  of  these  is  ad- 
vancement to  a  new  power — not  retrogression.  If 
lactation  has  ever  been  performed  by  a  man,  he  gained 
one  more  power  by  it,  he  had  an  experience  not  possi- 
ble to  him  before ;  he  was  more — not  less — a  living 
being  by  its  exercise. 

Mr.  Darwin,  curiously  as  it  seems  to  me,  takes  the 
opposite  view  of  these  phenomena,  treating  what  he 
continues  to  call  Rudimentary  organs  as  remains  of 
l<»t  powers — evidences  of  recession  instead  of  pro- 
gression. If  such  be  their  real  character,  it  is  a  misno- 
mer to  call  them  rudiments,  for  a  rudiment  is  surely  a 
beginning  of  something,  not  a  residue.  More,  it  is  the 
beginning  of  a  beginning,  an  "  unshapen  beginning," 
and  marks  the  way  by  which  completeness  co?nes,  not 
that  by  which  it  goes. 

That  disused  organs  and  powers  fall,  thereby,  into 
disability,  more  or  less  controlling  their  subsequent  ac- 
tion for  a  time,  none  will  deny  ;  but  the  visible  remains 
of  such  disused  powers  are  not  rudiments ;  they  are 
remains.  A  fetus  is  a  rudimentary  mammal,  but  a 
worn-out  organization,  or  one  whose  power  is  gone, 
from  long-suspended  action,  is  a  remainder.  The  fact 
that  subterranean  fishes  are  eyeless,  or  have  only  signs 
of  eyes,  proves  nothing;  for  if  their  ancestors  were  na- 
tives of  superficial  waters,  and  other  branches  of  the 
family  remaining  above  ground  have  complete  eye-, 
then  these  signs  are  the  evidences  of  a  power  lost  to 
those  individuals,  through  the  influence  of  an  artificial 
condition.  But  if  a  family  occupying  superficial  waters 
were  found  with  signs  of  eyes  instead  of  the  complete 
organs,  we  should  infallibly  consider  them  rudiments, 
and  the  class  inferior,  for  that  reason,  to  another  in  which 
the  eyes  were  perfect.    The  Rudimentary  organ  is  that 


100  WOMAN    AND    HER  ERA. 

organ  which,  in  the  natural  elements,  media  and  rela- 
tions of  its  possessor,  has,  by  reason  of  incompleteness, 
per  se,  no  use  in  the  life,  as  the  mammas  of  male 
mammals,  the  subcutaneous  feet  of  certain  serpents, 
the  abortive  eyes,  ears,  and  olfactory  apparatus  of  certain 
higher  mollusks. 

The  presence  then  of  a  Rudimentary  organ  is  pro- 
phetic of  a  higher  life  coming,  in  which  fullness  of  de- 
velopment will  add  a  new  power,  and  open  new 
relations.  Rudiments  do  not  appear  generally  in  the 
primary  or  middle  members  of  a  series,  but  in  the  later, 
just  where  the  transition  is  about  to  be  made  to  a  suc- 
ceeding type  or  series.  They  are  finger-posts  set  up  on 
the  borders  of  a  new  kingdom.  Useless  as  they  are, 
they  prove  the  elevation  of  their  possessor  above  other 
members  of  the  series  which  lack  them ;  much  more 
then  must  their  rail  development  contribute  to  elevate 
the  being  in  which  this  takes  place. 

Isow  the  rudimentary  mammas  of  man,  are  carried 
forward  in  Woman,  not  only  to  use,  the  most  moment- 
ous to  the  welfare  of  the  race,  but  to  beauty,  the  most 
perfect  of  the  human  form,  a  double  distinction  to  her. 
They  are  the  source  of  exquisite  delights  and  inexpressi- 
ble sufferings.  They  establish  relations  on  the  organic 
side  which  are  exclusively  hers ;  and  on  the  psychical  side 
they  are  represented  by  affections  and  emotions,  which 
in  her  nature,  as  compared  with  their  power  in  man's, 
are  as  the  organs  to  their  respective  bodies.  The  bo- 
som is  the  seat  of  the  deepest,  most  yearning  tenderness 
that  warms  and  moves  the  life,  and  this  is  strong,  per- 
manent, reliable,  in  proportion  as  that  is  perfect  in  de- 
velopment. Of  course  I  speak  not  in  the  individual, 
but   in  the  general  sense,  yet  somewhat,  I  have  no 


THE    ORGANIC    ARGUMENT.  101 

doubt  more  than  we  think,  might  be  said  in  the  former 
also. 

A  rudimentary  form  being  the  prophecy  of  a  com- 
plete organ  in  some  more  complex,  perfect  being  to 
come  after,  it  follows  that  in  the  highest  there  should 
be  no  rudiment,  and  Woman  being  at  the  summit  of 
the  organic  scale,  we  ma}7  expect  to  find  every  part  of 
her  organism  charged  with  its  full  measure  of  use — 
nothing  incomplete,  awaiting  fuller  development  in  a 
successor.  Is  this  so?  I  think,  notwithstanding  the 
statement  of  the  books  to  the  contrary,  that  there  is 
not  a  shadow  of  doubt  that  it  is.  For  it  is  an  absurdity, 
finding  a  certain  function  perfectly  discharged  in  any 
life,  to  suppose,  that  beside  the  organ  or  set  of  organs 
discharging  it,  there  should  be  given  also  a  rudiment, 
pointing  to  the  same  action.  It  is  to  suppose  that  Ma- 
ture, having  given  the  quadruped  its  own  perfect  eye 
or  ear,  should  add  a  rudiment  of  the  visual  or  auditory 
organ  of  fish  or  reptile.  Rudiments  are  not  superposed 
upon  function — they  underlie  and  precede  it.  For  it 
is  not  organ,  but  function,  which  is  Nature's  aim  and 
end.  She  does  not  multiply  parts  for  their  own  sake, 
but  for  the  uses  they  are  to  serve.  To  prove  a  rudi- 
mentary character  in  any  part,  it  must  be  shown  that 
a  function  is  aimed  at  hut  not  accomplished,  as  is 
true  of  the  mammae  of  the  male.  For  lactation  in  men, 
under  the  circumstances  alluded  to,  is  not  claimed  as 
normal — is  not  regulated  by  any  law  of  appearance  or 
disappearance,  proclaiming  a  relation  to  other  func- 
tions— must  at  its  best  therefore,  be  less  valuable  than 
in  Woman,  and  must  degenerate  with  time,  since  it  is 
a  tax  laid  upon  the  system  which  it  has  no  resource 
provided  to  meet.    The  intimate  structure  of  the  organ 


102  WOMAN    AND    IIER    EllA. 

also  proves  that  it  is  a  true  germ  of  the  complete  ma- 
ternal apparatus. 

The  part  of  the  feminine  organization  which  is 
treated  in  the  books  as  rudimentary,  may  have  been  so 
named  for  two  reasons :  first,  that  expounders  were 
ignorant  what  else  could  be  said  of  it,  and  second,  the 
masculine  structure  has  been  uniformly  assumed  as  the 
standard  of  highest  use.  Men  will  not  confess  igno- 
rance if  there  is  any  cover  that  will  spare  them  the 
humiliation.  How  doubly  pleasant  a  theory  which, 
beside  passing  for  wisdom,  natters  their  self-love. 

But  it  will  be  asked,  if  the  rudimentary  theory  is 
set  aside  in  application  to  this  part,  (and  I  think  it  is 
unmistakably  by  Nature),  what  theory  is  offered  in  its 
stead  ?  It  is  one  thing  to  remove  error  ;  another  to  set 
the  truth  in  its  place.  To  do  the  former,  neither  im- 
plies the  ability  nor  creates  an  imperative  obligation 
always  to  do  the  latter.  Seeing  a  falsity,  one  cannot 
be  held  loyal  to  it,  though  wholly  unable  to  discern  the 
truth  that  is  to  replace  it.  It  is  fit  here  only  to  sug- 
gest ;  and  if  the  hint  given  shall  be  found  to  point  in 
the  right  direction,  future  investigation  will  do  the 
rest.  May  not  the  purpose  of  the  structure  in  question, 
be  the  wider  diffusion  of  nerves,  whose  more  concen- 
trated presence  would  scarce  consist  with  the  functional 
economies  and  health  of  adjacent  parts  ? 

Does  a  like  relation  to  this  expressed  in  the  rudi- 
ments of  the  male  mammae  hold  between  masculine 
and  feminine  of  classes  inferior  to  the  mammalia  ?  This 
is  a  question  for  science  to  answer.  I  pretend  not  to 
say  whether  it  be  so  or  not,  or  being  so  in  certain  of 
the  lower  orders,  how  far  down  the  distinction  is  dis- 
coverable. But  this,  at  least  is  certain,  that  in  this 
class  it  is  uniform,  and  that  the  character  of  the  femi- 


THE    0KGA3TIC    AJSGUMEXT.  103 

nine  throughout  this  division,  corresponds  to  the 
organic  elevation  shown  by  it.  Before  proceeding, 
however,  to  remark  on  this  point,  we  must  carry  our 
analysis  a  step  or  two  farther. 

The  characteristic  attribute  of  the  feminine  organi- 
zation is  Beauty.  As  far  down  as  we  choose  to  dip, 
we  find  this  testimony  to  its  exaltation  borne  by  the 
forms  in  which  it  is  clothed.  I  speak  of  intrinsic,  essen- 
tial, absolute,  inseparable  beauty — the  beauty  of  lines 
and  proportions,  spaces  and  bounds,  color  and  grain. 
The  feminine  lines  and  proportions  are  known  as  soon 
as  seen,  bv  their  beauty.  If  anything  like  them  comes 
into  the  masculine,  it  is  called  feminine  there.  And 
no  less  characteristic  is  the  atomic  fineness  which  is 
an  essential  element  of  such  beauty.  Fineness  of 
atoms  presupposes  an  exalted  aim  in  their  combina- 
tion. This  is  abundantly  illustrated  in  the  mineral 
world,  where  compare  the  diamond  with  granite,  gold 
with  iron  ;  and  it  is  made  visible  to  us  all  the  way  up 
to  the  highest  living  form,  where  its  manifestation  is 
most  striking.  The  anatomist  will  distinguish  the  femi- 
nine from  the  masculine  fiber  by  the  fineness  of  its 
ultimate  threads  and  its  more  delicate  color.  The  epi- 
cure prefers  the  flesh  of  the  female  to  the  male,  for  its 
tenderness  and  purity  of  flavor,  and  this  equally  of 
wild  and  other  non-laboring  animals.  Some  of  the 
instinctive  tribes  celebrate  their  most  reverential  feasts 
exclusively  with  the  flesh  of  females. 

"What  we  call  the  superior  beauty  of  some  male  ani- 
mals, is  less  beauty  than  something  else  which  may  be 
confounded  with  it — power  expressed  in  size,  arrogance 
in  carriage,  self-consciousness  in  bearing,  as  in  the  male 
lion,  bos,  and  horse,  whose  countenances  rarely  equal 
in  expression  and  beauty  those  of  the  female,  and  whose 


104  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

proportions  never  exhibit  the  waving  outlines,  the  fine 
harmonies  of  form,  the  grace  and  flexibility  which  we 
find  in  the  former.  Or  it  is  extrinsic — the  beauty  of 
showy  clothing,  as  in  male  birds,  which  conceal  under 
their  brilliant  plumage  the  angular,  comparatively  ugly 
outlines  and  proportions  of  their  graceless  bodies.  The 
cock  and  hen  are  familiar  examples  of  this,  the  one 
strutting  about,  gaudy,  arrogant,  often  mean  and  ty- 
rannical in  his  grand  habiliments ;  caring  chiefly  for 
himself,  or  if  for  others,  with  noise  and  flourish  of 
trumpet,  with  self-complacency  and  challenge  to  admi- 
ration therefor :  the  other  meek,  industrious,  care-taking, 
plain,  unpretentious,  giving  herself  to  uses,  making  no 
show.  Strip  off  the  garments  in  which  each  is  clothed, 
and  pretensions  to  beauty  soon  settle  themselves.  She 
is  fine  where  he  is  coarse,  graceful  where  he  is  un- 
gainly, has  beauty  for  his  ugliness.* 


*  This  point  may  seem  questionable,  or  rather  if  not  ques- 
tionable as  to  the  facts,  which  I  believe  cannot  be  denied,  of  the 
superior  extrinsic  beauty  of  the  male,  and  intrinsic  beauty  of  the 
female  of  all  feathered  tribes,  and  all  the  noble  animals,  it  will 
at  least  admit  of  further  illustration.  And  I  am  glad,  therefore, 
to  offer  the  following  note,  received  nearly  two  years  after  writing 
the  above,  from  my  valued   correspondent,   Dr.  Eedfield  : 

"  That  the  male  bird  has  the  more  beautiful  plumage,  and  is 
more  musical  than  the  female,  is  unquestionably  true. 

"  Is  it  not  true  also,  that  of  the  talking  birds  the  male  is  the 
superior  in  that  accomplishment?  Now  it  is  singular  that  in  the 
very  things  in  which  Woman  excels  man,  the  male  bird  excels 
the  female.  For  it  is  certain  that  the  dress  of  the  peacock,  pheas- 
ant, bird  of  paradise,  cockatoo,  and  all  gayly-plumaged  birds,  is 
more  like  thai  of  woman  than  that  of  man,  in  respect  both  to 
fashion  and  color,  and  that  in  singing  and  speech,  birds  are  more 
like  women  than  men.  There  are  two  principles,  I  think,  in- 
volved in  the  explanation  of  this  phenomenon.  The  first  is,  that 
the  male  bird  represents  the  external  of  the  feminine,  which  in 


THE  ORGANIC  ARGUMENT.  105 

A  sentiment  of  the  moral  qualities  which  this  supe- 
rior beauty  of  the  feminine  denotes,  is  expressed  very 
generally  in  our  poetic  treatment  of  inferior  animals, 
to  say  nothing  of  their  invariable  attribution  to  Woman, 
in  a  pre-eminent  degree,  in  all  ages  and  among  all 
peoples,  whatever  their  condition.  Beauty  is  the  ex- 
Woman  is  shown  in  external  feminine  accomplishments,  corres- 
ponding with  the  characteristics  of  the  male  bird :  and  the  second 
is,  that  the  highest,  spiritual,  or  essential  feminine,  is  destined  to 
be  artistic  in  those  things  in  which  the  external  feminine  is  simply 
or  substantially  natural,  and  that  to  this  end  it  is  divested  of  what 
are  called  natural  clothing  and  natural  accomplishments,  except 
in  the  germinal  degree  necessary  for  artistic  development.  On 
the  first  point  I  will  say,  what  you  very  well  know,  that  the  bird, 
in  contradistinction  from  the  beast,  represents  woman,  in  contra- 
distinction from  man.  '  Birdie,'  '  Dove/  '  Nightingale,'  would  be 
very  inappropriate  names  for  men ;  and  '  beast,'  '  calf,'  '  old 
horse,'  and  the  like,  are  inapplicable  to  women,  under  any  cir- 
cumstances. The  man-child  is  called  a  '  lamb,'  but  never  a 
'  duck'  or  a  '  dove.'  Hence  it  is  obvious  that  the  female  bird 
must  represent  the  essential  feminine,  and  the  male  bird  the  ex- 
ternal feminine,  in  woman.  And  this  external  feminine  is  mani- 
festly dress,  ornament,  color,  and  musical  and  linguistical 
expression.  The  fact  that  the  male  parrot,  or  the  talker,  is  called 
1  Polly,'  comports  entirely  with  the  idea  that  the  male  bird  repre- 
sents the  external  feminine. 

"But  the  deficiency  of  the  female  bird,  and  of  the  females  of 
all  animals,  not  excepting  the  human,  '  in  a  state  of  nature,'  in 
these  externals,  is  the  strongest  proof  of  their  superiority  to  the 
males,  who,  in  their  primitive  state,  exhibit  these  germinal  artistic 
attributes  most  conspicuously.  Nature  clothes  the  lower  animals 
because  she  wishes  to  save  them  all  trouble  in  that  regard  ;  but 
sho  makes  the  human  nude  because  she  wishes  to  confer  upon  it 
the  honor  of  doing  for  itself  what  the  lower  animals  are  depend- 
ent upon  Nature  to  do  for  them.  If  man's  nudity  is  proof  of  his 
superiority  to  the  lower  creatures,  his  hirsuteness,  in  comparison 
with  Woman,  is  a  proof  of  her  superiority  to  him.  The  splendid 
train  of  the  peacock,  the  mane  of  the  male  bison  and  the  lion,  the 
5*     . 


106  WOMAN    AND    HER   EEA. 

ternal  sign  of  a  spiritual  nature  like  itself.  For  as  form 
proceeds  from  Spirit,  the  qualities  within  externalize 
themselves  in  it,  and  are  repeated  in  its  character. 
And  as  every  spiritual  quality  has  a  beauty  of  its  own, 
so  has  every  form ;  but  the  total  of  the  beauty  will  be 
according  to  the  exaltation  of  the  whole  nature  above 
the  plane  of  selfishness,  the  lowest  form  of  beauty,  and 
its  character  according  to  the  combinations  which  act 
with  most  power  in  molding  the  material. 

It  is  the  beauty  which  proceeds  from  the  affection al 
qualities  that  distinguishes  the  feminine.  Affection  is 
the  highest  attribute  ;  its  strongest  relations  are  with 
li*S  in  its  highest  appreciated  qualities ;  hence  the  be- 
ll a  dor  which  is  typical  of  love  in  its  nobler  forms  is 
alv  ays  looked  for  from  females,  and  ideally  attributed 
to  them,  while  that  proceeding  from  power  and  from 
the  lower  forms  of  love  is  typical  of  the  masculine. 


larger  fleece  of  the  wether,  and  the  more  and  handsomer  clothing 
of  the  male  generally,  are  only  proofs  that  Nature  does  not  look 
so  much  towards  Art  in  the  male  as  in  the  female.  But  in  the 
external  feminine,  which  clothing,  color,  music,  and  language 
are,  Nature  sets  an  example  for  Art,  teaches  her  representative, 
Woman,  to  imitate  her,  and  we  see  that  she  has  learned  her  les- 
sons well.  But  as  the  example  is  in  the  male,  the  male  is  first  in 
learning  the  rudimentary  lessons.  The  display  which  the  peacock 
and  turkey-cock  make  of  their  plumes,  is  in  the  desire  and  ability 
to  highten  their  charms,  to  fulfill  the  intention  of  Nature.  And 
so  of  the  artistic  accomplishments  of  the  mocking-bird  and  the 
parrot.  And  so  of  those  of  the  human,  as  shown  in  the  plumes, 
gold  lace,  and  military  trappings  of  the  soldier,  and  the  pioneer- 
ship  %of  man  in  music,  painting,  literature,  and  all  the  arts  of 
civilized  life. 

"  The  external  feminine  in  man,  (which  all  these  things  are), 
takes  the  lead  of  the  external  feminine  in  Woman,  because  in  the 
male  it  already  exists,  and  in  the  female  it  has  to  be  developed ; 
the  essential  feminine  has  to  be  manifested  and  embodied." 


THE   OEGANIC    A.RGUMENT.  107 

Thus,  if  we  have  a  fictitious  tale  of  suffering  involving 
man  and  beast,  or  otherwise  illustrating  the  brute  cha- 
racter, in  nine  cases  out  of  ten,  the  nobility,  conrage, 
endurance,  faithfulness,  wisdom,  foreseeing  instinct, 
love  or  what  not  that  is  most  pathetic  or  grand,  arc 
attributed  to  the  mare,  the  she-camel,  the  mother-cat 
or  dog,  bird  or  fowl. 

Again,  the  human  face  is  the  organic  seat  of  beauty. 
In  it  is  expressed,  in  larger  measure  than  in  any  other 
parts  of  the  organization,  the  individuality  to  which  the 
life  has  attained.  It  is  the  brilliant  focus  where  the 
rays  from  within  are  centered,  where  those  from  with- 
out are  reflected.  It  is  the  register  of  value  in  devel- 
opment, a  record  of  Experience,  whose  legitimate  office 
is  to  perfect  the  life,  a  legible  language  to  those  who 
will  study  it,  of  the  majestic  mistress,  the  Soul — a 
mirror  where  she  is  pictured  for  the  world's  beholding — 
a  volume  which  Nature  opens  for  his  help  and  conso- 
lation, who  while  he  reads  would  run. 

The  face  of  the  masculine  soul  differs  from  that  of 
the  feminine  in  many  details,  as  that  of  masculine  from 
masculine,  and  feminine  from  feminine,  but  it  differs 
radically,  essentially,  primarily  in  this,  that  it  is  pro- 
vided with  a  mask  which  conceals  those  features  that 
Nature  sets  forth  to  viewT  in  her,  as  artists  their  pic- 
tures and  statues.  Women  make  a  picture-gallery — 
men  a  masquerade,  and  while  they  laugh  or  sneer  at 
the  artifices  and  deceptions  which  women  practice,  they 
forget  that  these  are  more  noticeable  than  their  own 
only  because  they  are  spots  on  the  sun  instead  of  on  an 
earth ;  that  their  whole  life  is  a  game  of  concealments 
and  surprises,  which  are  clever  in  proportion  as  they 
are  adroitly  conducted  or  suddenly  sprung ;  while  Wo- 
man, candid,  earnest,  transparent,  beneficent,  employs 


108  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

artifice  rarely,  chiefly  for  artistic  effects,  and  more  to 
give  than  to  get,  delight.  She  needs  no  mask,  and 
Nature  has  given  her  none,  save  those  ever-varying 
shadows  which  the  spirit  throws  down  upon  her  fea- 
tures ;  those  quickly-changing,  mobile  aspects  which 
her  high  sensitiveness  trails  in  its  wake,  a  shining  reti- 
nue; those  auroral  gleams  from  within,  which,  when 
concealment  is  needed,  come  and  go  at  the  instant  need 
of  her  startled  soul,  and  make  the  very  essence  of  her 
dearest  beauty.     Not  a  mask  of  dependent  hair. 

Now  either  man's  organization  is  not  carried  up  to  the 
point  of  exclusion  against  this  hirsute  growth  which  the 
quadrupeds  share  with  him,  or  as  men  sometimes  say,  it 
is  kindly  left  to  hide  lineaments  and  expressions  which 
are  better  concealed  than  seen.  Nature  bestows  such  fa- 
vors sometimes.  But  whatever  the  theory  of  the  beard,  its 
absence  is  a  compliment  to  Woman,  since  it  shows  that 
Nature  trusts  her  as  altogether  fit  and  worthy  to  be 
seen  and  read  wherever  we  may  chance  to  look  at  her. 
Men  say  "barefaced"  when  they  condemn  bad  actions 
in  their  own  sex  that  have  not  been  sufficiently  covered 
in  the  doing,  implying  that  there  is  a  certain  merit  in 
concealing  an  aim,  working  in  a  decent  seclusion.  If 
it  be  said  that  the  beard  has  a  physiological  use  in  pro- 
tecting the  face  and  throat  of  man  from  the  meteorolo- 
gical changes  to  which  he  is  exposed,  I  grant  it,  and, 
letting  go  all  else,  will  stand  simply  by  this  as  indi- 
cating that  man  is  to  take  the  rougher,  coarser,  more 
material  side  of  life,  and  thus  interpose  himself  between 
Woman  and  the  wolf.  That  hence  he  is  fitted  for  the 
struggle  implied  in  this  relation,  and  she  unfitted  for 
it:  that  supply,  protection  at  his  hand  are  her  due, 
and  the  due  of  the  race  from  him  through  her :  that  he 
is  thus  appointed  to  develop  and  earn,  she  to  employ 


THE  ORGANIC  ARGUMENT.  109 

and  apply  the  means  he  creates,  in  lier  higher  creation 
of  humanity,  i.  e.,  in  fitting  herself  for  the  divinest  ma- 
ternity, In  performing  it,  and  in  caring  wisely  for  the 
children  she  has  bronght  forth  :  that  hence  he  is  a  rob- 
ber of  humanity  and  a  profaner  of  its  most  sacred  gifts, 
who  compels  Woman  to  ea/m  money  for  him,  whether 
it  be  in  the  cane-field,  the  cotton-mill,  the  sewing- 
room,  or  the  farm-house,  and  that  the  systems  of  civili- 
zation which  embody  this  feature  are  an  affront  to 
Heaven,  and  wrong  to  earth  which  it  can  never  escape 
till  it  puts  them  away. 

All  that  we  have  seen  of  the  two  organizations 
points  to  these  positions  respectively  for  their  pos- 
sessors. Man  is  naturally  an  earner ;  a  creator  of 
wealth.  Nature  has  made  him  able,  put  him  into  her 
large  field,  and  stands  there,  his  responsible,  sure  pay- 
master for  the  work  he  does.  She  has  builded  him 
rugged,  strong,  and  tough  in  the  material,  robust;  in- 
sensitive (by  comparison)  in  the  spiritual,  for  dealing 
witli  the  external  creation.  He  loves  not  only  to  apply 
himself  thus,  but  to  count  the  gains  from  doing  it. 

She  has  made  Woman  the  opposite  of  all  these 
things,  wherefrom  her  will  clearly  appears,  that  he  shall 
protect  and  she  be  protected ;  he  shall  supply  and  she 
receive  ;  he  shall  create  means  for  human  development, 
and  she,  in  her  nicer  wisdom  and  more  loving  care, 
shall  employ  them  to  secure  that  end  :  in  short,  that  Im- 
position and  relation  shall  be  those  which  suit  the 
coarser  and  more  material,  hers  the  finer  and  more 
spiritual  nature. 

Here  my  limits  constrain  me  to  rest  the  organic 
division  of  the  Argument  for  Woman's  Superiority. 
Its  incompleteness  is  more  apparent  to  me  perhaps  than 


110  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

it  will  be  to  any  who  may  read  it,  in  a  candid  spirit. 
For  there  is  matter  enough,  properly  belonging  to  this 
part  of  my  subject,  to  fill  a  volume  far  exceeding  in  size 
that  which  I  propose  to  allow  myself,  and  my  labor  has 
consisted  less  in  stating  than  in  choosing,  and  with- 
holding matters  equally  pertinent  with  those  set  down. 
But  I  remember  that  there  are  other  days  coming — 
other  pens  to  follow  this  crude  pioneer.  It  is  the  office 
of  announcement  to  sketch  in  bold  outlines,  to  mass 
rather  than  shade  down,  to  touch  the  mountain-peaks 
and  show  the  way  the  plains  and  valleys  lie,  rather 
than  to  explore  them  and  report  their  contents. 

I  write  in  the  hope  of  being  read  by  Women — by 
some  who  have  little  time  for-  labored  or  abstruse  read- 
ing, and  little  need  of  it  for  seeing  the  truths  which  it 
most  deeply  imports  themselves  and  humanity  that 
they  know.  If  I  were  seeking  primarily  to  reach  the 
slower  and  more  doubting  understanding  of  men, 
elaboration  would  be  necessary.  But  as  the  first  sub- 
ject of  my  mission  is  Woman,  and  she  is  more  than 
half  prepared  by  interior  illumination  already,  to  be- 
lieve the  truths  of  her  own  nature,  I  am  sure  I  may, 
without  serious  detriment  to  the  cause  I  love,  pass  on, 
after  the  brief  recapitulation  necessary  to  authorize  the 
bringing  forward  of  the  third  term  of  our  syllogism. 

It  has  been  shown,  as  to  the  major  premise,  that 
Life  is  exalted  in  proportion  to  its  Structural  and 
Functional  complexity,  these  being  the  measure  of  its 
Physiological  Quantity. 

And  as  to  the  minor  premise,  we  have  seen : 

First,  that  Woman  possesses  the  most  complex 
organism,  and  the  largest  total  of  functional  powers,  of 
any  being  inhabiting  our  globe — in  other  words,  that 


THE  OBGANIC  ARGUMENT.  Ill 

she  constitutes  the  highest  grade  of  development  of  the 
highest  type  of  living  creatures  here. 

Second,  that  for  this  reason,  as  well  as  others,  she  is 
more  responsible  in  the  parental  office  than  man  is ; 
other  reasons  being  in  part,  that  her  structural  propor- 
tions declare  maternity  to  be  her  paramount  physical 
office  (which  paternity  is  not  in  man) ;  that  she  pos- 
sesses finer,  more  affluent  and  varied  nerve-gifts  than 
he,  whereby  she  is  made  capable  of  keener  emotions,  a 
greater  variety  of  experiences,  a  larger  body  of  rela- 
tions, of  the  finer  sort,  with  the  external  world,  and 
thus  is  specially  fitted  to  transmit,  mediatorially,  the 
influences  stored  in  the  surrounding  creation  for  the 
help  of  her  child  in  its  origin  and  ante-natal  education. 

Third,  that  she  is  advanced  above  man  by  the  capa- 
city of  a  physiological  change  to  which  there  is  nothing 
equivalent  in  his  life  ;  and  capacity  for  change,  varia- 
tion, being  Nature's  highest  manifestation,  the  artistic 
power,  Woman  is  thus  shown  to  be  the  artist  in  her 
constitution,  though  the  period  of  her  confessed  artistic 
work  has  not  yet  been  seen. 

Fourth,  her  greater  elevation  as  an  organic  being- 
is  proved  by  her  possession  in  full,  of  the  organs  of 
lactation,  which;  rudiments  in  the  male  structure,  pro- 
phesy the  female  with  the  complete  apparatus  and 
added  function. 

Fifth,  the  same  is  proved  by  the  gift  to  her,  in  a 
typical  degree,  of  beauty,  the  characteristic  beauty  of 
the  most  human,  as  distinguished  from  the  less  human 
beauty  of  the  masculine,  this  being  the  mtrinsic,  essen- 
tial, inseparable  beauty  of  the  finest  nature,  the  pure, 
loving,  spiritual  affections ;  that,  the  more  extrinsic 
beauty  of  material,  of  the  proud  intellect  and  more 
selfish  affections. 


112  WOMAN    AND    HER    EEA. 

Sixth,  it  has  been  shown  that  her  whole  constitu- 
tion, corporeal  and  mental,  make  a  being  to  whose 
perfect  development  and  action  Nature  subordinates 
all  else,  not  in  a  slavish,  but  in  a  harmonious,  divine 
sense ;  not  for  the  narrow  object  of  good  to  her,  but  for 
the  broad  one  of  good  to  all ;  since  by  her  higher  na- 
ture and  offices  she  is  the  accredited  minister  of  the 
divine  to  the  human,  for  its  generation,  regeneration, 
and  enduring  development. 

Seventh,  that  neglect  to  secure  to  individual  wo- 
men, to  communities  or  nations,  some  measure  of  these 
conditions,  is  visited,  upon  the  sex  in  degeneracy  from 
the  womanly  type,  both  in  the  physical  and  mental ; 
and  upon  society  in  stagnation  that  stays  each  genera- 
tion in  the  footprints  of  its  fathers,  progress  being  for- 
bidden by  their  constitutional  law,  to  the  offspring  of 
enslaved,  or  deeply  subordinated,  or  overworked  mo- 
thers ;  from  which  it  is  plain  that  control  of  the  highest 
human  interests  vests  in  the  feminine. 

And  thus  it  is  proved  that  Xature  has  endowed 
Woman  with  the  most  varied  Organization  and  Powers 
of  any  earthly  being.  Wherefore  her  position  in  the 
scale  of  Organic  Life  is  the  Sovereign  one. 


I  recall  here,  with  a  pleasure  which  some  of  my 
readers,  I  am  sure,  will  thank  me  for  offering  them 
also,  these  broad  lines  of  Arthur  Hugh  Clough,  who 
appears  to  have  been  gifted  with  flashes  of  rare  insight 
upon  the  question  we  have  been  considering  : 

"  However  noble  the  dream  of  equality,  mark  you,  Philip, 
Xowhere  equality  reigns  in  God's  sublime  creations  ; 
Star  is  not  equal  to  star,  nor  blossom  the  same  as  blossom ; 
Herb  is  not  equal  to  herb  any  more  than  planet  to  planet.;; 


THE  OEGANIC  ARGUMENT.  113 

And  again,  half  scornful  of  the  pains  with  which 
women  would  cultivate  themselves,  he  says : 

"  Women  must  read,  as  if  they  did'ut  know  all  beforehand." 

I  must  offer  too  this  little  delicious  morceau  from 
Patmore's  "Angel  in  the  House  "  : 


"THE    EOSE    OF    THE    WORLD. 

So  when  the  Lord  made  North  and  South, 

And  sun  and  moon  ordained  He, 
Forth-bringing  each  by  word  of  mouth 

In  order  of  its  dignity, 
Did  man  from  the  crude  clay  express 

By  sequence,  and,  all  else  decreed, 
He  formed  the  Woman;  nor  might  less 

Than  Sabbath  such  a  work  succeed. 

And  still  with  favor  singled  out, 

Marred  less  than  man  by  mortal  fall, 
Her  disposition  is  deyout, 

Her  countenance  angelical; 
No  faithless  thought  her  instinct  shrouds, 

But  fancy  checkers  settled  sense, 
Like  alteration  of  the  clouds 

On  noonday's  azure  prominence  ; 
Pure  courtesy,  composure,  ease, 

Declare  affections  nobly  fixed, 
And  impulse  sprung  from  due  degrees 

Of  sense  and  spirit  sweetly  mixed  ; 
Her  modesty,  her  chiefest  grace, 

The  cestus  clasping  Venus'  side, 
Is  potent  to  deject  the  face 

Of  him  who  would  affront  its  pride  ; 
Wrong  dare  not  in  her  presence  speak, 

Nor  spotted  thought  its  taint  disclose 
Under  the  protest  of  a  cheek 

Outbragging  Nature's  boast,  the  rose. 


114  WOMAN    AND    HEIi    ERA. 

In  mind  and  manners  how  discreet ! 

How  artless  in  her  very  art ; 
How  candid  her  discourse  ;  how  sweet 

The  concord  of  her  lips  and  heart ; 
How  (not  to  call  true  instinct's  bent 

And  woman's  very  nature,  harm,) 
How  amiable  and  innocent 

Her  pleasure  in  her  power  to  charm : 
How  humbly  careful  to  attract, 

Though  crowned  with  all  the  soul  desires, 
Connubial  aptitude  exact, 

Diversity  that  never  tires. 


PART    SECOND 


CIIAPTEK    I. 
RELIGIOUS   ARGUMENT. 

It  would  be  easy,  from  this  point,  to  assume  much 
else  as  proved,  in  the  conclusion  we  have  legitimately 
reached  of  Woman's  Organic  Superiority.  For  if  the 
facts,  both  of  Form  and  Phenomena,  already  stated,  are 
to  have  the  weight  in  this  connection  which  they  have 
everywhere  else  in  Nature ;  and  if  the  laws  by  which 
their  co-relation  and  real  significance  are  shown  in 
other  beings,  are  of  like  application  to  the  nature  of 
Woman,  we  have  but  a  step  farther  to  go.  Organic 
superiority  is  in  itself  proof  positive  of  super-organic 
superiority.  Nature  works  in  such  perfect  Order  and 
Harmony  that  the  one  must  go  with  the  other.  Prove 
one  and  the  other  is  equally  established. 

But  because  of  the  blindness  and  evil  courage  with 
which  error  and  prejudice  have  ever  sprung  to  self- 
defense  against  Truth,  and  because  this  Truth  advances 
upon  the  oldest  order  of  relations ;  the  deepest-rooted, 
most  wide-spread  and  compact  government  that  has 
ever  been  organized  by  mankind — the  government  of 
the  physical  and  intellectual  forces  incarnate  in  the 


116  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

masculine — a  government  dating  back  in  one  phasis  or 
other  of  it  to  the  creation  of  the  race,  and  coming 
down  unbroken  to  the  present  time ;  and  because  reason 
is  capable  of  behaving  like  unreason  when  called  on  to 
defend  such  an  inheritance  and  possession  ;  and  because 
in  Revolutionary  conflict,  whether  against  Ideas  or 
Arms,  we  are  capable  of  resisting  change  both  with 
measures  and  assertions  of  which  we  can  only  be 
ashamed  after  using  them,  it  seems  inexpedient  to 
omit  any  step  of  the  argument,  or  reserve  any  proof 
that  can  be  offered,  to  knit  its  parts  into  the  most  com- 
pact, impregnable  whole.  According  to  my  ability, 
therefore,  I  shall  state  and  illustrate  every  important 
point  that  presents  itself  as  I  pass  along.  If  the  labor 
be  superfluous  here,  it  may  have  value  there.  If  it 
fails  in  elucidating  one  point,  it  may  bear  helpfully 
upon  some  other.  And  above  all,  if  women  do  not 
need  the  last  wTord  that  can  be  given  in  evidence,  let 
them  be  assured  that  it  will  not  be  thrown  away  upon 
men.  For,  as  we  shall  by-and-by  see  of  the  masculine 
mind,  it  believes  more  from  the  weight  of  testimony 
than  that  of  pure  Truth.  And  at  the  most  so  much 
mure  will  have  to  be  omitted  than  can  be  said,  that  I 
can  scarcely  fear  burthening  my  subject  for  any  but 
the  most  developed  readers,  who  will,  I  trust,  indulge 
me  with  their  patience. 

Our  next  step,  therefore,  will  be  to  proA'e  that  the 
most  exalted  life  is  that  which  comprises  the  greatest 
number  of  original  powers  in  an  active  form,  giving 
the  longest  scale  between  the  extremes  of  good  and 
evil : 

That  Woman  has,  throughout  the  history  of  the 
race,  proved  herself  capable  of  the  greatest  moral  ex- 
tremes possible  to  mortal  life,  and  that 


RELIGIOUS   AK(;tY,  .  117 

Therefore  she  is  the  highest  embodiment  of  it  on 
our  earth. 

The  first  of  these  propositions  is  so  self  evident,  that 
it  requires  no  argument.  We  confess  its  truth  every 
hour  in  the  feelings  we  entertain  toward  the  different 
creatures  who  inhabit  our  earth ;  in  our  sentiment  to- 
ward the  unseen  beings  whom  we  suppose  advanced 
above  us,  and  in  our  reverence  for  the  Great  Unseen, 
who  is  the  perfect  combination  of  all  supposable 
powers. 

Power,  in  the  generic  sense,  is  the  sum  of  capacities. 
Capacities  are  on  the  corporeal  side,  functions — on  the 
psychical,  faculties :  and  between  the  two  there  must 
be,  in  the  perfect  Order  and  Harmony  of  Nature,  a 
definite,  fixed  relation.  The  more  functions,  the  more 
faculties.  Every  power  below,  must  have  its  repre- 
sentative above,  and  nothing,  however  humble  or  ob- 
scure its  position  and  use,  is  denied  hearing  by  its 
voice,  in  the  Upper  Courts  where  the  soul  reigns. 

We  must  learn  to  think  of  Power  in  this  primary 
sense,  that  we  may  the  more  perfectly  free  ourselves 
from  the  influence  of  the  prevailing  arbitrary,  conven- 
tional, and  very  mixed  ideas  with  reference  to  it. 
Power  is  not  strength.  The  one  is  broad,  the  other 
bounded.  One  is  the  sea  which  cannot  be  compressed 
into  channels  narrower  than  those  Nature  provides  for 
it.  The  other  a  river  which  may  be  compressed  so  that 
it  will  chafe  and  rage  against  its  banks,  undermining 
and  spreading  desolation  as  it  goes.  Power  is  Life — 
the  Concrete  of  the  Phenomena  we  name  by  that  won- 
derful name  ;  Strength  is  rather  a  condition  of  Life. 
Power  is  harmony,  beauty — strength  may  be  discord, 
deformity.  Human  powers  are  equal  in  number  and 
one  in  character  in   all  men ;  but  some  are  latent  in 


118  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

certain  individuals  and  conditions,  some  active,  and 
strong  characters  are  the  result  of  this  want  of  equili- 
brium. In  a  perfectly  harmonious  development,  it  is 
never  strength,  but  power,  which  is  felt,  as  for  exam- 
ple, in  the  greatest  Artists,  Philanthropists,  and  Philo- 
sophers ;  or  to  go  higher  for  the  perfect  illustration,  in 
the  Great  Power,  whom  we  never  for  a  moment  con- 
ceive of  as  Strength. 

Powers  are  Means  for  the  End  of  Use — Uses  are 
Means  for  the  End  of  Development.  And  that  life  is 
most  advanced  which  employs,  in  the  service  of  the 
greatest  number  of  powers,  the  most  complex  mechan- 
ism for  the  End  of  Use.  We  have  seen  the  greater 
complexity  of  the  feminine  structure,  and  its  larger 
circuit  of  Use.  We  are,  therefore,  prepared  to  find  in 
it  the  embodiment  of  a  larger  number  of  powers,  and 
higher  aims  in  its  Use.  In  other  words,  to  find  in  the 
feminine  a  deeper  feeling  for  the  Ends  of  Use,  a  more 
abiding  faith  in,  and  loyalty  to  Development,  as  the  one 
aim  that  makes  life  worthy  of  acceptance  and  sweet  in 
its  passing  taste ;  and  on  the  other  hand,  to  see  that  its 
failure  herein  is  more  fatal  and  destructive  than  it  is 
in  the  masculine  life.  Between  these  two  extremes  of 
good  and  evil,  lies  the  scale  of  feminine  action.  Our 
object  now  is  to  show  that  it  includes  the  masculine, 
transcending  it  in  both  directions. 

Testimony  is  abundant,  and  its  strength  is  incalcu- 
lably augmented  by  the  variety  of  its  character  and 
sources.  Not  out  of  the  mouth  of  one,  two,  or  three 
witnesses  may  the  truth  be  established,  but  out  of  every 
mouth  that  has  been  opened  from  the  beginning  of  re- 
corded human  experience  down  to  the  last  word  of  our 
own  day. 

The  weight  of  evidence  will  be  deductive,  but  there 


RELIGIOUS    ARGUMENT.  119 

will  not  be  lacking,  for  those  who  need  it,  some  induc- 
tive testimony  also.  For  a  deduction,  when  the  warmth 
has  departed  from  it,  serves  as  a  basis  for  induction. 
Thus  the  sentiment  of  reverence  toward  Woman,  a 
pure  deduction  at  its  root,  (springing  from  the  intui- 
tive perception  of  a  nature  in  her  that  is  worthy  of 
reverence),  and  appearing,  at  times,  in  fragments, 
among  the  very  rudest  people,  becomes,  as  the  ages 
pass,  a  fact  justifying  by  its  existence  the  claim  for  a 
higher  nature  in  her.  The  inductive  mind  which  can- 
not see  for  itself  that  she  is  worthy  of  reverence,  will 
find  evidence  that  she  is,  in  the  fact  that  she  has  he-en 
held  so. 

Deductively  from  what  lias  been  shown  of  Woman's 
Organic  Life  and  its  offices,  we  ought  to  find  certain 
qualities  of  the  spiritual  nature  distinguishing  her  from 
man  psychically,  as  the  structural  traits  distinguish 
her  physically.  The  elaborate  and  exquisite  charac- 
ter of  the  dwelling  we  have  examined,  entitles  us  to 
look  for  a  worthy  occupant  therein,  one  "  full  of  excel- 
lences and  most  noble  conditions" — a  nature  enriched 
by  the  presence  of  deep,  imperishable  love,  by  inex- 
haustible tenderness,  by  divine  compassion  which 
passes  from  sentiment  into  action  before  its  object;  by 
unshrinking  courage  of  that  higher  sort  which  claims 
and  defends  the  good  that  is  not  seen,  the  rights  for 
which  no  strong  arm  has  been  raised,  the  dues  that  are 
not  reckoned  by  the  outward  standards  of  value,  the 
obligations  which  have  not  descended  to  embodiment 
in  constitution,  statute,  or  social  law — a  courage  which 
follows  the  inner  eye,  hears  by  the  inner  ear,  works  in 
obscurity  as  cheerfully  as  in  the  blaze  of  the  popular 
admiration,  and  that  faints  not  in  failure,  because  to  it 
there  is  no  failure,  effort  being;  one  with  success  in  its 


120  WOMAN   AND    HER    ERA. 

high  fields.  We  are  entitled  to  look  for  unfaltering 
Hope,  which  can  bring  the  light  and  calm  of  the  Fu- 
ture into  the  Present,  how  dim  and  tempestuous  soever 
it  be ;  for  Purity  of  thought  and  action,  which  can  pre- 
serve alive  the  finest  elements  of  the  soul,  giving  them 
a  firmer  character,  a  deeper  bloom,  and  a  sweeter 
aroma  from  year  to  year  of  the  passing  life ;  for  Can- 
dor, which  is  the  very  reflection  of  Nature ;  for 
Earnestness,  which,  too  clear  and  wise  to  be  cheated 
by  shadow,  lays  its  unerring  hold  only  upon  substance ; 
for  Aspiration,  which  never  folds  its  pinion  while  there 
is  a  higher  to  be  won  ;  for  Reverence,  Trust,  and  Faith, 
which  are  the  Spirit's  divine  knowledge  of  things  ever 
higher  than  the  Seen  and  the  Attained,  the  sustaining 
certainty  of  arriving  in  their  presence  at  last,  and  the 
Heavenly  consciousness  that  when  so  much  is  achieved, 
the  road  of  Progress  will  still  stretch  before  the  soul, 
and  her  journey  will  be  a  delight  more  exalted  and  ex- 
alting at  every  stage  of  advancement  upon  it — and 
finally  for  that  Charity  which  crowns  all  oilier  excel- 
lences, forgives  all  short-comings,  delights  in  returning 
good  for  evil,  is  kind  after  all  sufferings,  and  that  sees 
in  the  capacity  for  diffusion,  the  unspeakable  value  of 
every  joy  that  the  universe  affords. 

For  proof  that  the  feminine  nature  is  distinguished 
by  the  dominance  of  these  and  kindred  qualities,  I  shall 
appeal,  beyond  the  testimony  already  offered,  to  the 
earliest  expressed  human  Sentiment,  the  Religious,  in 
the  great  leading  forms  of  it  that  have  found  accept- 
ance with  the  growing  peoples  of  the  earth  ;  to  Art,  to 
History,  to  the  Common  Sentiment  of  humanity,  and 
to  the  Actual  Qualities  of  Woman's  Nature,  and  the 
experiences  they  have  brought  her. 


religious  argument.  121 

Evidences    of    Mythology. 

A  glance  at  the  systems  of  Egypt,  Greece,  and 
Home,  will  suffice  to  show  that  they  were  based  upon 
the  superiority  of  the  feminine.  It  was  the  fundamen- 
tal truth  of  each.  The  best,  the  purest,  the  noblest, 
the  tenderest  principles  were  made  personal  in  femi- 
nine deities,  as  were  also  those  of  the  extreme  opposite ; 
the  most  evil,  the  most  vicious,  the  most  baleful,  dire, 
subtile,  irresistible,  secretly  dreadful ;  while  the  middle 
ground  of  good  and  evil,  the  medium  virtues  and  the 
vices  of  tyranny,  revenge,  slaughter,  robbery,  violence, 
common  dishonesty,  treachery,  fraud,  were  generally 
masculine. 

The  great  Egyptian  deities  were  Isis  and  Osiris. 
The  pretensions  of  the  god  to  worship,  were  based  upon 
his  parentage,  as  the  son  of  Saturn,  and  upon  what  he 
had  done,  not  what  he  was.  He  claimed  to  have  led  a 
numerous  army  to  the  deserts  of  India,  and  to  have 
traveled  over  many  parts  of  the  earth,  doing  good  to 
its  inhabitants.  Illustrious  origin  and  good  work 
truly,  but  rather  light  in  the  scale  against  the  claim  for 
Isis,  conveyed  in  these  commanding  words  upon  her 

Statues,  "  I  AM  ALL  THAT  HAS  BEEN,  THAT  SHALL  BE,  AND 
NONE    AMONG    MORTALS    HAS    HITHERTO     TAKEN     OFF     MY 

vail."  In  accordance  with  these  sublime  pretensions, 
she  was  universally  worshiped,  her  priests  being  men 
of  the  severest  chastity,  the  most  rigid  abstemiousness 
and  untiring  devotion,  as  indeed,  what  less  could  be 
worthy  her  service  ? 

Terra  (the  Earth)  is   a  goddess,  who  became  the 
Mother  of  Ooelus,  Heaven).    Opis  or  Ops  is  her  daugh- 
ter,  who,   besides    becoming    by  her   marriage   with 
Saturn  the  Mother  of  the  gods,  is  the  deity  of  benefl- 
6 


122  WOMAN   AND    HEK    EKA. 

cence,  with  her  right  hand  extended,  offering  aid  to 
the  helpless,  in  her  left  a  loaf,  at  her  feet  a  tamed  lion 
lying  unfettered. 

Plenty,  Peace,  Health,  Youth,  are  all  females. 
Day,  with  its  life,  energy,  benign  opportunities,  is 
Aurora.  Spring,  Summer,  Autumn,  representative  of 
growth,  beauty,  abundance,  are  goddesses — Winter, 
stern,  fixed,  unfruitful,  repellant,  a  god.  Domestic 
Peace  is  a  goddess.  All  the  noblest  Virtues,  Inno- 
cence, Honor, . Temperance,  Liberty,  Prudence,  Hope, 
Clemency,  Fortitude,  Modesty,  Tranquillity,  Gayety, 
Devotion,  are  female.  Truth  is  worshiped  as  the  Mo- 
ther of  Virtue.  Victory  was  a  goddess,  as  were  also 
"V  alor  and  Fortune.  Even  that  very  masculine  princi- 
ple, Justice,  received  adoration  as  a  female,  and  the 
administration  of  her  affairs  was  much  intrusted  to 
another  woman,  Nemesis,  who  was  infallible  in  her 
work. 

The  most  sacred  purity  was  attributed  only  to  fe- 
male virgins,  and  no  male  was  permitted  to  enter  the 
temple  of  their  goddess,  Vesta,  or  esteemed  worthy  to 
pay  her  worship.  The  Soul,  Psyche,  is  a  Woman'; 
Wisdom  another,,  who,  beside  being  the  patron  of  the 
liberal  arts,  is  the  creator  of  the  Olive,  emblem  of 
Peace.  So  that  every  Mythologic  origin  of  peace  is  in 
the  feminine,  and  the  world's  history  since  those 
dreams  were  woven  into  systems,  has  well  illustrated 
how  true  to  nature  they  were. 

Each  of  the  Arts  whose  office  it  is  to  refine,  purify, 
adorn,  embellish  and  grace  life,  is  under  the  patronage 
of  a  Muse,  no  god  being  found  worthy  to  preside  over 
them.  The  Graces  are  feminine — the  sovereign  of 
Love  is  a  Queen,  the  only  male  personification  being  a 
grotesque,  ill-mannered  boy.     Fides  is  the  goddess  of 


RELIGIOUS    ARGUMENT.  123 

Faith,  Oaths,  and  Honesty,  qualities  not  personified 
by  any  male  myth. 

Beauty  is  a  Queen,  not  a  king  :  and  there  is  a 
queen  of  all  the  gods  and  mistress  of  heaven  and  earth, 
Juno,  whose  character,  notwithstanding  the  cruelties 
and  persecutions  to  which  her  well-grounded  jealousy 
of  her  husband  prompted  her,  is  of  immaculate  purity 
and  brightness,  tender  and  sweet,  pure  and  lovely,  com- 
pared with  his.  Jupiter  is  everywhere  set  forth  as  a 
shameless,  lying,  tricky  sensualist;  nay,  as  the  very 
impersonation  of  those  vices,  wherefore,  and  because  of 
his  great  external  power,  the  ancients  held  him  worthy 
to  be  king  of  all  the  gods  and  of  men,  because  he  could 
lead  them  all  in  licentious  pleasures,  and  overtop  them 
in  the  frauds  and  meannesses  of  every  sort  that  were 
needful  to  secure  his  gratifications. 

Nowhere  does  Mythology  bear  more  satisfactory 
testimony  to  its  reverence  for  the  feminine  than  in  the 
character  it  attributes  to  the  male  sovereign  of  heaven 
and  earth.  Possessed  of  power  to  delegate  from  him- 
self all  the  included  kingdoms  of  Use,  he  had,  as  in 
their  judgment  became  the  highest  male  being,  little 
left  to  claim  his  attention  beside  the  cultivation  of  his 
pleasures — a  pursuit  not  so  distasteful  to  his  represent- 
atives of  succeeding  ages  as  to  have  occasioned  any 
general  or  violent  disloyalty  to  his  example. 

It  is  evident  from  even  this  brief  statement,  imper- 
fect as  it  is,  of  the  distribution  to  female  Myths,  of  the 
pure,  the  beneficent,  the  pleasing,  and  the  beautiful 
offices  and  powers,  that  there  are  few  left  to  be  exer- 
cised among  the  gods,  and  that  ruin  will  be  averted  by 
those,  let  these  be  never  so  corrupt.  And  the  study  of 
their  character  and  lives,  goes  very  far  to  show  that  it 
was  a  wise  forecast  which  left  so  little  of  the  essential 


124  WOMAN   AND    HER    ERA. 

good  to  their  care  and  exemplification.  For  there  ap- 
pears almost  everywhere  among  them,  so  keen  a  relish 
of  the  freedom  from  responsibility,  such  a  reckless 
abandonment  to  self-indulgence,  so  eager  a  devotion  to 
immediate,  and  generally  coarse,  pleasures,  that  one 
feels  occasionally  in  looking  at  them,  as  at  their  later 
brethren — neither  gods  nor  myths — that  the  real  bless- 
ing and  safety  of  both  periods,  is  that  the  best  good 
and  the  highest  virtues,  are  lodged  in  purer  and  nobler 
beings. 

Of  the  few  eminent  gods,  and  male  personages  of 
inferior  rank,  whose  conduct  does  not  disgrace  their 
sex,  are  Neptune,  Yulcan,  Apollo,  (?)  Atlas,  Edipus, 
Ulysses,  Jason,  (doubtful)  Achilles,  Deucalion,  Hector, 
Hercules,  Priam,  Theseus,  Nestor,  Perseus,  and  some 
others,  to  whom,  as  to  these,  brave,  active,  and  useful 
lives,  unstained  by  low,  outrageous  crime  or  shameless 
conduct,  are  attributed.  A  few  males  appear  to  have 
been  wholly  unselfish  and  noble  in  those  dream  ages, 
as  in  the  later  ones,  but  the  great  majority  of  male 
myths  are  the  synonyms  of  the  grossest  vices  and  so- 
cial evils.  Thus  after  Jupiter,  Mercury  may  be 
mentioned  as  the  first  patron  of  thieves  and  pick- 
pockets, his  son,  Autolycus,  being  the  second.  Bac- 
chus, worthy  pupil  of  Silenus,  is  the  god  of  joyous 
drunkenness,  which  soon  becomes  unjoyous.  Priapus 
is  the  deity  of  lasciviousness.  The  Cabiri,  a  group  of 
male  deities,  held  in  the  highest  veneration  for  their 
power  to  save  in  storms  and  shipwreck,  were  worship- 
ed with  such  shocking  obscenities  and  horrors,  that 
authors  pass  them  by  with  a  bare  allusion,  not  having 
courage  to  do  more  than  hint  at  their  existence  and 
offices.  Now  a  service  is  valued  either  for  the  good  it 
does  us  or  the  evil  it  helps  us  to  escape,  and  we  seek  to 


RELIGIOUS   ARGUMENT,  125 

repay  it  in  what  we  feel  will  most  delight  the  doer. 
The  Cabiri  were  valued,  not  for  moral,  but  material 
help;  not  for  lasting,  but  for  temporary  benefits.  And 
their  services  were  acknowledged  in  the  way  supposed 
to  be  most  pleasing  to  them.  Truly  a  curious  study 
seems  the  masculine  heart,  whether  in  the  bosom  of 
gods  or  men.  There  are  chambers  there  one  would 
rather  not  look  into  till  the  windows  have  been  opened 
and  the  airs  of  heaven  have  swept  through  and  through 
them. 

Saturn  is  an  improvement  upon  Jupiter  in  charac- 
ter, chiefly  for  want  of  power  to  be  as  bad — the  Satyrs 
and  Fauns  were  monsters  given  up  to  drunkenness  and 
debauchery.  Midas  stands  for  Avarice.  Procrustes 
enjoyed  as  wide  a  fame  in  that  day,  as  a  robber,  as  in 
this  he  does  for  the  summary  surgery  with  which  he 
treated  his  victims.  The  misers  and  extortioners  in  (and 
out  of)  Mythology  are  always  masculine.  Prometheus 
excelled  the  gods  and  all  men  in  cunning  and  fraud ; 
Mars  is  the  god  of  Slaughter,  and  Pluto  sovereign  of 
Hell. 

The  beneficent  gods  approach  the  feminine  in  type 
of  development  as  well  as  in  character.  Apollo  is 
beardless,  and  wears  long  hair  like  a  woman.  Yer- 
tumnus  is  a  youth  crowned  with  flowers  like  a  girl. 
Zephyrus  is  a  young  man  of  delicate  form,  wearing  a 
chaplet  of  all  kinds  of  flowers  which  his  sweet  breath 
has  called  from  the  ground.  Those  who  are  not  femi- 
nine, but  still  good,  either  lack  sentiment  or  are  churl- 
ish, as  Neptune  and  Yulcan.* 


*  It  is  to  the  purpose  to  note  in  passing,  that  the  delivery  ot 
oracles  in  the  ancient  temples  was  chiefly,  if  not  wholly  intrusted 
to    Woman.     A  Priestess  presided ;  if  assisted  by  Priests,  they 


126  WOMAN    AND    HEE    EEA. 

Opposed  to  the  exalted,  beneficent,  and  honorable 
positions  held  by  the  feminine  personages  of  Mytholo- 
gy, we  have  the  extreme  of  malevolence  and  evil,  rep- 
resented by  goddesses,  furies,  heeates,  whose  evil  offices 
prove  too  subtile  for  the  grosser  masculine  power,  or 
demand  a  persistent  devotion  to  diabolism,  amounting 
to  self-abnegation,  a  degree  in  evil  to  which  the  mascu- 
line rarely  descends,  and  where  it  seems  altogether 
incapable  of  holding  itself.  The  character  of  gods  and 
men  alike  show  this.* 

First  of  the  Malevolents,  we  may  note  the  Furies, 
(Eumenides),  whose  office  is  to  inflict  agonies  of  the 
spirit-^remorse,  fear,  terror,  grief,  envy,  jealousy.  They 
are  the  avengers,  whom  no  scheme  of  ambition,  no 
temptation,  no  love  of  ease  or  of  pleasure,  no  personal 
motive,  object,  or  interest  can  turn  from  their  task, 
whether  it  be  self-imposed  or  appointed.  Kindred  to 
them  in  these  characteristics  are  the  Fates,  (Parese), 
daughters  of  night,  whose  offices  equally  require  the 
inexorable  suppression  of  all  susceptibility  to  casual  or 
temporary  emotions.  They  preside  over  birth,  life,  and 
death  ;  and  it  is  worthy  of  note,  that  the  only  beings 
who  are  credited  with  power  to  defeat  or  control  Jupi- 
ter, were  these  females,  the  Fates  and  the  Furies. 

BTox,  the  Mother  of  the  Parcse,  brought  forth  also 
Death,  Discord,  and  Fraud,  beside  other  less  baleful 


were  subordinate  to  her.  A  clear  indication  this  of  the  early 
intuition  that  the  feminine  was  mediatorial  between  the  mascu- 
line and  I  ivine. 

*  So  the  Christian  Poets  also.  The  worse  being  in  Hell  than 
its  Ruler,  according  to  Milton,  is  a  female  named  Sin.  And  the 
foulest  conception  of  the  Spenser  gallery  is  also  a  woman,  whom 
he  names  Errour— -fountains  of  evil  both — causes  more  than 
effects. 


RELIGIOUS    ARGUMENT. 


offepringi  Bellona  is  the  goddess  of  war,  but  the  evils 
of  that  calling  are  so  external,  tangible,  and  masculine, 
that  the  peaceful  side  of  it  was  characteristically  as- 
signed to  her,  as  it  has  always  since  been  to  her  sex, 
Mars  enjoying  a  monopoly  of  the  mutilation  and 
slaughter,  as  his  sex  equally  has  to  the  present  time. 
The  temple  of  Bellona  was  not  a  temple  of  blood,  but 
of  audience  with  foreign  ambassadors,  returned  war- 
riors, &c. 

The  Sirens  were  gifted  with  a  power  that  was  irre- 
sistible, to  charm  men  to  their  ruin,  which  was  ludic- 
rously confessed  by  Ulysses  on  the  occasion  of  his 
memorable  escape  from  them.  Hecate  had  power  for 
good  and  evil,  though  the  latter,  which  extended  oyer 
Heaven,  Earth,  and  Hell,  won  her  most  of  the  fame 
which  distinguishes  her  among  us ;  while  Medea 
achieved  an  unenviable  reputation  by  some  very  bad 
conduct,  much  in  the  fashion  of  men  who  revenge  in- 
juries by  chopping  up  their  injurers,  tearing  them  in 
pieces,  and  gloating  over  their  agonies.  An  aunt  of 
hers  too,  Circe  by  name,  certainly  cannot  be  esteemed 
a  creditable  member  of  a  family.  Semiramis  may  be 
mentioned  as  one  of  the  women  whose  badness  her  sex 
could  ill  afford  to  acknowledge,  except  as  proof  of  its 
capacity  for  goodness.  Cruel,  mean,  sensual,  and  am- 
bitious, she  enjoys  an  eminence  which  the  worst  men 
who  have  ever  lived,  can  scarcely  dispute  with  her. 

The  goddesses  who  patronize  personal  vices  exclu- 
sively, are  very  few,  though  good  and  evil  are  strongly 
blended  in  the  characters  of  some  of  those  already 
named.  Thus  Yenus  unites  the  extremes  of  her  circle, 
Love,  which  is  feminine,  and  Sensuality,  which  is 
masculine.     She  is  at  once  the  mother  of  Love  and 


128  WOMAU    AND    HER    ERA.. 

the  patroness  of  prostitution."  Diana  we  know  Lad 
numerous  amours  ;  notwithstanding  which  she  retained 
her  place,  no  male  Myth  ever  being  reckoned  a  fitter 
patron  of  Chastity. 

At  Home  there  was  a  goddess  of  thieves ;  there  was 
also  a  female  deity  who  presided  over  debauchery,  and 
whose  festivals  were  held  in  secret,  as  from  their  shock- 
ing character  it  was  necessary,  even  among  all  the 
open  depravities  of  which  they  formed  a  part,  they 
should  be. 

No  more  evidence  of  this  sort  need  be  added,  I  am 
sure,  to  show  the  unity  of  the  earliest  with  the  latest 
expressions  of  mankind  upon  this  point.  I  will  only 
beg  the  reader  to  note,  in  his  Mythological  studies,  the 
very  general  uniformity  with  wdiieh  the  feminine, 
whether  benevolent  or  malevolent  in  character,  is  as- 
signed to  the  control  of  the  spiritual,  the  essential, 
the  imperishable  ;  and  the  masculine  to  that  of  the 
present,  the  transitory,  the  external,  the  sensual.  And 
further,  that,  in  accordance  with  these  relations,  in- 
stinctively perceived  by  the  earliest  peoples  as  by 
ourselves,  it  is  Being  which  is  required  of  the  Femi- 
nine for  the  end  of  Doing ;  and  Doing,  which  is  required 
of  the  Masculine  for  the  end  of  Being.     The  former  is 


*  These  systems  originated,  it  must  be  remembered,  in  the 
minds  of  men,  not  women ;  and  this  contradiction  in  the  character 
of  the  mother  of  Love,  indicates  the  unregenerate,  masculine  view 
of  it  which  is  not  yet  extinct  among  many  sons  of  Adam,  who  are 
proud  of  having  grown  far  away  from  Mythological  thought  and 
theory  in  other  directions.  Assuming,  from  their  own  conscious- 
ness, that  love  is  of  the  body  more  than  the  soul,  and  that  it  lives 
more  by  the  one  than  the  other,  they  are  capable  of  theorizing 
themselves  into  unhappiness,  jealousy,  anger,  or  rage,  if  its  lower 
demands  meet  with  a  check. 


RELIGIOUS    ARGUMENT.  129 

divine,  and  help  proceeds  from  it  as  such ;  the  latter 
strives  in  its  noblest  effort  that  it  may  become  so. 

Theological    Testimony. 

Let  us  now  glance  at  our  later  religious  systems  for 
their  treatment  of  Woman.  I  have  no  intention  of 
parading  the  liberality  which  Christianity  has  shown 
my  sex.  That  statement  has  been  so  often  and  ably 
made,  that  I  should  despair  of  doing  anything  that  has 
not  been  already  better  done,  or  of  increasing  the  light 
at  present  enjoyed  by  the  intelligent  women  and  men 
of  Christendom.  I  am  not  willing  to  walk  among 
argand-burners  with  a  poor  rush-light  in  my  hand  :  nor 
would  my  contribution  be  worth  the  pains  were  I  to 
do  it.  But  I  propose  to  glance  at  Woman  in  the  ori- 
gin of  our  Christian  system — in  both  its  primary  and 
secondary  origins.  And  the  more  fairly  and  fully  to 
draw  from  the  complex  statements  to  be  examined, 
whatever  they  contain  that  is  pertinent  to  our  question, 
I  shall  speak  from  the  position  of  both  acceptor  and 
rejector  of  them.  They  stand  in  that  anomalous  rela- 
tion to  the  popular  mind — accepted  implicitly  by  a 
very  large  party,  partially  by  another,  and  wholly  re- 
jected by  a  third — which  requires  all  these  attitudes 
toward  them  by  one  who  would  take  the  testimony 
they  bear  on  a  question  like  this.  I  shall  concede  to 
the  first  two  parties  their  ground,  assuming  the  truth 
of  the  narrative  they  believe,  for  the  sake  of  giving  it 
the  rational  reading  as  to  Woman,  and  occupy  that  of 
the  third  so  far  as  the  irresistible  deductions  and  infer- 
ences from  these  premises  may  lead  me. 
6* 


130  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

I. — Old  Dispensation. 

The  first  thing  one  notes,  looking  in  this  direction, 
is  the  declaration,  never  yet  contradicted  by  senti- 
ment, reason,  or  science,  which  places  Woman  at  the 
head  of  the  organic  creation  ;  namely,  that  she  was  the 
last  created  member  of  it — its  crown  and  perfection. 
And  among  all  the  new  forms  of  life  which  our  know- 
ledge of  natural  science  and  the  laws  of  modification 
have  enabled  us  to  produce,  nothing  transcending  her, 
has  ever  appeared.  Kew  fishes,  insects,  birds,  and 
beasts  have  come  into  the  scale ;  new  sub-varieties  of 
the  human  appear  as  the  more  marked  varieties  mix ; 
but  AVoman  stands  always  at  the  head  in  organic  gifts 
and  perfections.  The  biblical  statement  implies  that 
she  was  doubly  removed  from  crude  nature,  in  being- 
made  of  matter  already  refined  by  its  employment  in 
the  structure  of  man  ;  and  the  creative  energy  rested, 
we  are  told,  after  producing  her,  in  the  repose  of  a 
climax  attained. 

The  second  noticeable  point,  is  that  Woman  stands 
at  the  center  of  both  Dispensations  which  introduce 
our  Christian  system.  The  Bible  and  Theology  impute 
to  her  the  act  which  opened  the  first,  making  the  human 
life  a  career  to  be  run,  with  an  aim  in  view,  instead  of 
a  simple  state,  a  period  of  time  to  be  lived,  with  no 
aim  beyond  that  of  daily  satisfactions,  of  a  somewhat 
higher  character  than  those  which  the  nobler  brute 
creatures  also  know. 

To  possess  ourselves  here  of  the  largest  measure  of 
Truth  that  may  be  within  our  reach,  we  must  look  at 
this  matter  as  calmly  and  with  a  mind  as  completely 
divested  of  prejudice  as  that  we  would  bring  to  any 
other  intellectual  inquiry.     For  only  thus  can  we  esti- 


RELIGIOUS    ARGUMENT.  131 

male  it  from  the  reasonable  point  of  view,  which  will 
best  qualify  us  to  take  the  religions  one  also,  if  our  reli- 
gion be  such  as  will  stand  the  inevitable  tests  which 
time  reserves  to  try  it,  withaL  Truth,  it  must  be  re- 
membered, can  never  disclose  one  new  feature  of  her 
heavenly  physiognomy  to  us  without  a  little  startling 
us,  either  by  the  obliteration  of  some  lineament  which 
the  mind  had  before  imputed  to  her,  or  by  putting 
something  which  is  unfamiliar  in  the  place  where  we 
have  been  accustomed  to  look  on  vacancy.  If  we  ac- 
cept Truth  as  the  Form  of  Love,  and  pay  our  supreme 
loyalty  to  her  thus,  as  the  nearest  and  most  direct  cog- 
nizable Representative  of  God,  the  medium  through 
acquaintance  with  whom  we  are  to  arrive  at  a  more 
and  more  perfect  knowledge  of  the  Adorable,  we  shall 
fear  nothing  that  is  a  part  of  Truth,  but  shall  rather 
desire  earnestly  to  learn  every  aspect,  trait  and  line  of 
her  divine  form.  When  the  mind  reaches  this  noble 
estate,  Error,  however  embalmed,  is  no  longer  sacred 
to  it — falsehood,  however  venerable  by  age  and  ac- 
ceptance, even  of  the  wise  and  good,  loses  its  odor  of 
sanctity,  and  that  only  is  sacred  and  sweet  which  is  a 
part  of  Truth  itself.  Only  the  open  mind  is  her  fair 
theater ;  and,  essential  as  her  presence  is  to  the  growth 
of  the  soul,  there  is  nothing  less  forceful  among  the 
moral  elements  of  the  universe,  than  this  gentle  sove- 
reign. Drop  the  thinnest  vail  of  prejudice  or  bigotry 
before  her  approaching  step,  and  she  will  calmly  stop 
on  its  other  side,  nor  offer  so  much  as  to  break  a  thread 
of  your  arachnoidean  armor.  On  the  other  hand,  in- 
vite her,  join  hands  with  her,  kiss  her  cheek  with  the 
kiss  of  love,  and  the  rocky  ribs  of  the  solid  earth  can- 
not shut  you  two  within  them,  neither  exclude  you 
from  your  aims.  Avert  your  face,  and  she  is  the  gentlest 


132  WOMAN    AND    HER  ERA. 

of  maidens,  who  will  not  claim  so  much  as  the  most 
distant  glance  of  recognition  from  the  lover  she  is 
yearning  to  approach  :  turn  to  her  with  open  arms, 
and  she  comes  to  you  a  grave,  earnest  matron — a  Mo- 
ther, whose  tender  care  for  her  child  penetrates  all 
Xature,  and  turns  her  currents  to  its  support. 

This  character  of  Truth,  while  it  postpones  our  ac- 
quaintance with  her,  has  the  advantage  of  securing  a 
more  perfect  harmony  when  we  come  together.  We 
can  only  know  her  by  loving  her,  and  our  knowledge 
must  be  (as  toward  her)  fairly,  openly,  and  freely  gained. 
Thus  she  invites  free  discussion  of  all  topics  in  which 
the  question  of  her  presence  is  involved,  by  offering 
her  royal  self  as  premium  thereon. 

Aware  of  the  sacredness,  to  vast  numbers  of  excel- 
lent and  worthy  persons,  of  the  questions  we  are  about 
to  examine ;  sincerely  desirous,  if  the  statements  here 
offered  shall  result  in  displacing  any  article  of  their 
faith,  or  any  point  of  belief  of  an  inferior  denomina- 
tion, to  offer  Truth  instead,  or,  where  I  am  unable 
to  do  this,  to  make  clear  the  way  for  her  coming,  I 
submit,  by  way  of  introduction,  the  following  very 
candid,  noble  passages  from  Mr.  Mill's  late  book  on 
Liberty,  convinced  that  they  may  aid  some  readers  to 
see  the  soundness  of  the  position  here  taken,  namely, 
that  every  question,  however  sacred,  not  only  may,  but 
must,  in  its  time,  be  examined,  if  Truth  lies  hidden 
within  it.  Whereby  I  hope  to  gain,  not  merely  respect 
for  my  motives  at  the  hands  of  readers,  but  a  reserva- 
tion of  censure,  till  they  shall  have  fairly  weighed  all 
the  considerations  here  offered,  against  the  faith,  the 
belief,  or  the  prejudice,  to  which  they  may  oppose 
themselves : 

"  In  the  case  of  any  person  whose  judgment  is  really 


RELIGIOUS    ABGUMENT.  133 

deserving  of  confidence,  how  lias  it  become  so  ?  *  * 
Because  he  has  felt,  that  the  only  way  in  which  a  human 

being  can  make  some  approach  to  knowing  the  whole 
of  a  subject,  is  by  hearing  what  can  be  said  about  it  by 
persons  of  every  variety  of  opinion,  and  studying  all 
modes  in  which  it  can  be  looked  at  by  every  cha- 
racter of  mind.  *  The  greatest  harm 
done"  (by  the  ban  placed  on  free  inquiry)  "  is  to  those 
who  are  not  heretics,  and  whose  mental  development 
is  cramped,  and  their  reason  cowed,  by  the  fear  of 
heresy.  Who  can  compute  what  the  world  loses  in  the 
multitude  of  promising  intellects  combined  with  timid 
characters,  who  dare  not  follow  out  any  bold,  vigorous, 
independent  train  of  thought,  lest  it  should  land  them 
in  something  which  would  admit  of  being  considered 
irreligious  or  immoral  ?  Among  them  we  may  occa- 
sionally see  some  man  of  deep  conscientiousness,  and 
subtile,  refined  understanding,  who  spends  a  life  in  so- 
phisticating with  an  intellect  which  he  cannot  silence, 
and  exhausts  the  resources  of  ingenuity  in  attempting 
to  reconcile  the  promptings  of  his  conscience  and  rea- 
son with  orthodoxy,  which  yet  he  does  not,  perhaps,  to 
the  end  succeed  in  doing.  Ko  one  can  be  a  great 
thinker  who  does  not  recognize,  that  as  a  thinker,  it  is 
his  first  duty  to  follow  his  intellect  to  whatever  conclu- 
sions it  may  lead.  Truth  gains  more  even  by  the 
errors  of  one  who,  with  due  study  and  preparation, 
thinks  for  himself,  than  by  the  true  opinions  of  those 
who  only  hold  them  because  they  do  not  suffer  them- 
selves to  think.  Xot  that  it  is  solely  or  chiefly  to  form 
great  thinkers,  that  freedom  of  thinking  is  required. 
On  the  contrary,  it  is  as  much,  and  even  more  indis- 
pensable, to  enable  average  human  beings  to  attain  the 


134  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

mental  stature  which  they  are  capable  of.  *  *  * 
He  who  knows  only  his  own  side  of  the  case,  knows 
little  of  that.  His  reasons  may  he  gocd,  and  no  one 
may  have  been  able  to  refute  them.  But  if  he  is 
equally  unable  to  refute  the  reasons  on  the  opposite 
side  ;  if  he  does  not  so  much  as  know  what  they  are,  he 
has  no  ground  for  preferring  either  opinion.  The  ra- 
tional position  for  him  would  be  suspension  of  judg- 
ment, and  unless  he  contents  himself  with  that,  he  is 
either  led  by  authority,  or  adopts,  like  the  generality 
of  the  world,  the  side  to  which  he  feels  most  inclina- 
tion. Kor  is  it  enough  that  he  should  hear  the  argu- 
ments of  adversaries  from  his  own  teachers,  presented 
as  they  state  them,  and  accompanied  by  what  they 
offer  as  refutations.  That  is  not  the  way  to  do  justice 
to  the  arguments,  or  bring  them  into  real  contact  with 
his  own  mind.  He  must  be  able  to  hear  them  from 
persons  who  actually  believe  them  ;  who  defend  them 
in  earnest,  and  do  their  very  utmost  for  them.  He 
"must  know  them  in  their  most  plausible  and  persua- 
sive form ;  he  must  feel  the  whole  force  of  the  diffi- 
culty which  the  true  view  of  the  subject  has  to  encoun- 
ter and  dispose  of.  Else  he  will  never  really  possess 
himself  of  the  portion  of  Truth  which  meets  and  re- 
moves that  difficulty.  *  All  that  part  of 
Truth  which  turns  the  scale  and  decides  the  judg 
ment  of  a  completely  informed  mind,  is  never  really 
known  but  to  those  who  have  attended  equally  and 
impartially  to  both  sides,  and  endeavored  to  see  the 
reasons  of  both  in  the  strongest  light.  So  essential  is 
this  discipline  to  a  real  understanding  of  moral  and  hu- 
man subjects,  that  if  opponents  of  all-important  truths 
do  not  exist,  it  is  indispensable  to  imagine  them,  and 


RELIGIOUS    ARGUMENT.  LOO 

supply  tlicm  with  the  strongest  arguments  which  the 
most  skeptical  devil's  advocate  can  conjure  up."* 

I  will  add  that  no  one  can  worthily  claim  to  be  a 
teacher,  who  has  not  divested  the  soul  of  that  cow- 
ardice which  would  suppress  Truth,  or  would  seek  to 
hide  her  in  its  own  depths ;  whither  she  has  come, 
not  for  its  help  alone,  but  for  introduction  to  Mankind. 
If  we  could  see  that  Truth  really  does  never  require 
protection  at  our  hands,  but  only  reception  and  trans- 
mission, we  should  lay  off  the  heavy  garments  of  many 
umral  anxieties  that  oppress  us  sorely  at  present.  For 
myself,  I  cannot  suppress  truth,  nor  that  earnestness 
and  candor  in  inquiry  which  may  lead  to  knowledge 
of  her.  Wherefore  those  who  are  not  prepared  to 
travel  in  any  such  path  that  may  open  to  us,  as  we 
advance  in  our  subject,  will,  I  fear,  be  apt  to  part 
company  with  us  by-and-by,  if  not  here.  I  can  risk 
everything  but  the  violation  of  my  own  conscience  and 
judgment:  those  I  must  be  permitted  to  hold  sacred, 
at  whatever  cost  of  criticism  or  censure,  whether  of 
friends  or  foes. 
•  Hence  I  offer  for  such  attention  as  they  can  com- 
mand, the  following  views  of  the  Old  Testament  state- 
ment of  Woman's  part  at  the  origin  of  the  human 
career.  It  cannot  be  passed  by,  for  the  reason  before 
given,  that  intelligently  or  ignorantly,  it  is  present,  in 
s.>me  form  or  color,  near  the  foundation  of  almost  every 
religious  faith  entertained  in  Christendom.  It  there- 
fore demands  analysis  in  any  attempt  at  a  comprehen- 


*  I  have  met  with  this  volume  since  completing  the  present 
work;  hut  feeling  the  support  which  Mr.  Mill's  views  give  me, 
and  their  real  helpfulness  to  all  honest,  unprejudiced  truth- 
seekers,  I  have  preferred  taking  the  trouble  of  incorporating 
them  in  the  text,  to  risking  their  neglect  in  the  form  of  a  note. 


16b  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

sive,  original  view  of  Woman's  moral  relations  to  her 
race.  It  is  not  sufficient  to  say  that  it  is  sacred  from 
inquiry.  ^Nothing  is  so  sacred  as  the  character  of  God, 
yet  the  received  conception  of  Him  is  held  sacred 
among  any  people  in  direct  proportion  to  its  ignorance, 
and  is  most  sacred  among  the  lowest  savages,  capable 
of  a  system  of  religious  worship.  Every  intelligent 
soul  is  forever  urging  its  way  to  the  premises  for  new 
and  more  expansive  conclusions  touching  that  incon- 
ceivable mystery,  with  a  feeling  that  the  sacredness  is 
not  in  the  conception  now  or  ever  entertained,  but  in 
the  character  itself.  Xor  is  it  enough,  on  the  other 
hand,  to  say  that  Genesis  is  a  fable  which  will  by-and- 
by  fall  to  pieces  of  itself.  As  well  might  we  fold  our 
hands  touching  the  removal  of  any  error  or  the  devel- 
opment of  any  truth,  assuring  ourselves  that  time  will 
accomplish  all.  Time  and  Truth  require  us  as  instru- 
ments for  their  work.  They  fit  and  prepare  us.  We 
are  their  means  for  its  accomplishment,  and  being 
called,  have  no  right  to  refuse  them  such  service  as  we 
can  render. 

We  will  take  the  narrative  just  as  it  stands.  There 
is  no  need,  for  the  cause  of  Woman,  to  alter  or  force  a 
syllable  of  it.  First,  it  appears,  as  has  been  before  hinted, 
that  the  human  life  became  a  career,  a  struggle,  through 
the  initiatory  act  of  Eve.  What  it  would  have  been  but 
for  this  act,  let  the  book  tell  for  itself.  The  Eden-life, 
it  informs  us,  was  to  have  been  a  life  of  plenty,  ease, 
and  ignorance.  They  had  the  spontaneous  fruits  for 
their  support,  the  trees  for  their  shelter,  and  they 
needed  no  clothing.  These  were  the  physical  features 
of  that  lot :  it  had  but  one  moral  one,  that  of  blind- 
ness ;  on  the  voluntary  preservation  of  which,  as  an 
inner  state,  the  comforts  of  the  outer  state  depended. 


RELIGIOUS   ARGUMENT.  137 

Nuw  moral  slavery  is  the  heaviest  of  all  bondages  that 
can  subject  man.  Even  the  chattel  system  of  our  own 
country,  with  all  that  it  involves  of  monstrous  and 
cruel  in  its  organic  features,  is  more  deplorable  for  the 
moral  slavery  it  engenders,  than  for  what  it  is  as  a 
physical  and  social  condition. 

The  human  soul  abhors  slavery  and  despises  slaves 
that  remain  such,  whether  their  bondage  be  of  force  or 
of  ignorance.  Especially  does  it  despise  those  who 
voluntarily  reject  their  right  to  freedom,  knowing  that 
it  can  be  won  by  a  certain  act  or  acts  which  they  are 
capable  of,  and  may  make  at  their  pleasure.  More- 
over, in  any  such  case  it  is  patent  that  the  noblest  na- 
ture will  be  that  which  will  most  certainly  and  speedily 
cast  off  the  bonds  that  hold  it. 

Now,  Adam  and  Eve,  it  is  said,  were  made  in  the 
image  and  likeness  of  God.  It  is  impossible,  I  think, 
to  take  any  idea  whatever  from  this  statement,  for  two 
reasons ;  first,  that  we  are  unable,  and,  according  to 
the  authority,  forbidden  to  attempt  any  conception  of 
Deity,  as  an  existence ;  and  second,  that  as  they  were 
created  in  ignorance  of  good  and  evil,  which  is  the  very 
perfection,  self-hood,  and  essence  of  Deity,  the  likeness 
utterly  failed  in  the  only  point  wherein  it  is  possible, 
or  according  to  its  own  code,  lawful  to  conc-eive  it. 
But,  setting  aside  our  reasonable  claim  to  find  some 
intelligent  meaning  in  that  which  is  written  for  our 
instruction  and  guidance,  more  especially  when  it  is 
offered  as  a  revelation,  for  so  momentous  a  purpose  as 
the  eternal  salvation  of  mankind,  this  assertion  is  a 
simple  absurdity.     These  are  its  elements. 

First,  God  is  the  very  embodiment  of  Wisdom  and 
Love,  i.  e.,  knowledge  of  Good,  and  choice  of  it ; 
second,  man  was  made  in  His  image  and  likeness,  yet 


138  WOMAN    AXD    IIEK    K1IA. 

was  without  the  one,  and  necessarily,  therefore,  desti- 
tute of  the  other;  third,  a  moral  obedience,  notwith- 
standing this  original  incapacity,  teas  required  of 
him — he  was  expected  to  remain  in  his  bondage  and 
darkness,  though  informed,  (if  we  can  conceive  so  im- 
possible a  being  as  receiving  the  information),  of  the 
glory  and  advantage  of  escaping  it,  that  he  should 
thereby  become  as  a  god ;  fourth,  he  was  to  suffer  the 
direst  penalty  if  he  attempted  escape.  In  other  words, 
to  obey,  was  to  prove  himself  more  unlike  God,  in  es- 
sential Godhood,  than  the  ox,  which  is  incapable  of 
conceiving  moral  freedom,  because,  knowing  it,  he  was 
expected  to  forego  it ;  and  if  he  did  not  thus  brutify 
himself  and  his  generations^  he  was  to  incur  the  most 
fearful  of  penalties. 

In  these  difficult  circumstances,  it  seems  clear  that 
the  first  service  which  humanity  could  possibly  do 
itself,  would  be  to  vindicate  its  alleged  noble  creation, 
by  developing  its  likeness  to  God  in  the  very  act  with 
which  Eve  stands  charged — the  act  which  clothed  it  in 
the  divine  power  to  know  good  and  evil.  But  here  we 
come  nice  to  face  with  a  blank  impossibility.  Before, 
we  have  encountered  only  absurdities :  this  is  a  graver 
difficulty.  For  how  is  it  possible  that  a  being  created 
without  a  moral  sense,  should  have  desired  to  exercise 
it,  or  have  been  capable  of  being  moved  by  motives,  to 
do  or  not  to  do,  which  appealed  to  it  ?  Who  can  ima- 
gine the  orang  or  the  gorilla  desiring  the  moral  sense 
of  man,  or  capable  of  entertaining,  as  a  motive,  any  con- 
sideration that  would  move  the  moral  nature  ?  It  is 
not  only  an  absurdity,  but  an  impossibility,  which 
ought  to  entitle  its  author  to  a  first-rate  position  among 
the  metaphysicians.  For,  we  can  only  desire  what  we 
in  some  degree  possess.    The  very  root  of  desire  cannot 


RELIGIOUS    ARGUMENT.  139 

be  in  us  toward  attributes  of  which  our  Consciousness 
makes  absolutely  no  report •.   Idiocy  commences  titer e. 

But  the  case  of  Woman  is  specially  illustrated  in 
the  alleged  fact  that  she  took  the  initiative,  in  this 
great  service  to  humanity,  of  developing,  or  we  might 
perhaps  as  properly  say,  creating,  its  moral  likeness  to 
God ;  and  that  she  was  moved  thereto  by  an  appeal 
which  could  only  address  itself  to  a  spiritual  nature, 
the  assurance  that  she  should  thereby  become  as  a 
g«»d  !  And,  whether  the  serpent  represents  Wisdom  or 
Wickedness  in  this  transaction,  the  compliment  to  the 
feminine  nature  is  equally  distinct,  because  of  the 
purity  and  Godlikeness  of  the  motive  presented  to  it. 
Woman  rose  out  of  bondage,  in  the  love  of  freedom — 
that  she  might  become  wiser  and  diviner.  Man  fol- 
lowed her.  So  early  dates  the  spiritual  ministration 
of  the  feminine.  Headers  who  may  feel  shocked  by 
these  statements,  will  please  bear  in  mind  that  it  is  not 
the  author,  but  Genesis  speaking  here.  I  have  em- 
ployed no  ingenuity — forced  no  meaning  of  a  single 
word.  Let  any  one  who  thinks  I  have,  compare  the 
text. 

X  But  to  return.  Masculine  and  Feminine  were 
placed,  according  to  the  record  so,  in  Eden,  charged 
alike  to  remain  as  they  were,  under  penalty  of  death. 
It  is  not  very  clear  what  they  could  have  understood 
by  this  penalty,  since  the  phenomenon  of  death  had 
not  yet  come  into  the  world,  and  they  could  therefore 
never  have  seen  it ;  but  whether  it  had  for  them  the 
terror  of  a  penalty  or  the  interest  of  an  untried  experi- 
ence; whether  it  required  much  or  little  courage  to 
face  it — a  strong  or  a  weak  will — a  high  or  a  low  pur- 
pose ;  it  was  Eve  who  first  dared  the  trial.  Had  it 
been  Adam,  would  men  so  long  have  sat  under  it  as  a 


140  WOMAN    AND    HEK   ERA. 

reproach  ?  I  cannot  think  so :  it  would  rather  have 
been  their  pride,  instead,  x 

The  tree  of  the  knowledge  of  Good  and  Evil — a 
noble  tree,  as  we  must  believe,  bearing  fair  fruit  in  the 
midst  of  a  broad  garden  !  Is  it  not  difficult,  nay,  impos- 
sible, to  imagine  any  living  soul  dwelling  beneath  its 
boughs,  unmoved  by  the  irresistible  desire  to  partake — 
desire  that  must  inevitably  grow  into  purpose  and 
act  when  the  consequences  should  be  fully  understood, 
that  thereby  it  should  become  "  as  a  god"? 

A  penalty  is  the  balance  to  a  possible  real  or  imagined 
good,  that  is  hoped  for  in  incurring  it.  In  this  case  the 
good  was  the  very  essence  of  being,  and  what  penalty 
could  balance  it  ?  To  "  become  as  a  god,"  who  would  not 
joyfully  face  certain  death?  "It  is  an  absolutely  unim- 
aginable cowardice  that  could  be  deterred.  In  incurring 
a  penalty,  we  are  moved  at  once  by  fear  and  hope. 
Fear  that  we  may  suffer  it ;  hope  that  the  good  we  are 
striving  for  may  be  won.  Now  when  the  good  is  abso- 
lute— the  good  of  the  Universe — the  highest  that  life 
can  aspire  to,  every  human  creature,  according  to  its 
light,  must  honor  and  revere  the  soul  that  dares  all  for 
its  conquest.  Behold  the  moral  attitude  of  the  first 
Woman  toward  her  race  ! 

Is  it  not  most  characteristic  and  significant  that  this 
first  good  achieved  for  itself  by  humanity,  that  good  for 
which  all  others  are,  and  from  which  they  derive  their 
value,  should  have  been  won  by  Woman  ?  May  we 
not  congratulate  ourselves,  every  woman  of  us,  that 
the  record  is  so  plain  that  man  cannot  by-and-by  shift 
the  crown  to  his  own  brow  ?  It  would  not  be  the  first 
instance  of  his  claiming  as  an  honor  what  he  had  before 
shunned  as  an  obloquy  :  hence,  it  seems  fortunate  for 
us,  that  he  then,  and  his  sons  since,  have  distinctly 


RELIGIOUS    ARGUMENT.  141 

charged  and  reiterated  that  it  was  "  the  woman  who 
saw  that  it  was  good  for  food,  pleasant  to  the  eyes,  and 
a  tree  to  be  desired  to  make  one  wise,"  and  who,  seeing 
all  this,  had  the  courage  to  taste  for  herself,  and  the 
generosity  to  persuade  her  husband  to  share  the  blessing 
her  act  had  won.  It  was  she  who  was  capable  of 
aspiring  to  the  result  which  the  prohibition  was  intended 
to  make  impossible ;  she  to  whom  Wisdom,  represented 
by  the  serpent,  could  successfully  address  that  greatest 
of  all  appeals  ever  made  to  the  human  soul,  "  In  the 
day  that  ye  eat  thereof,  then  shall  your  eyes  be  opened ; 
and  ye  shall  be  as  gods,  knowing  good  and  evil ;"  she 
whose  moral  courage  opened  the  door  of  a  career  to 
humanity,  leading  up  to  Heaven — a  door  which,  ac- 
cording to  his  attempted  exculpation  of  himself,  man 
would  not  have  laid  his  hand  upon.  It  was  she  who 
set  the  feet  of  her  race  in  the  pleasant  paths  of  pro- 
gress, discovered  its  nakedness  and  poverty,  and  com- 
menced the  career  of  improvement,  whose  fruits  we 
may  behold  to-day,  in  comparing  its  naked  with  its 
clothed  races — Tongataboo  with  Windsor-palace,  Tas- 
mania with  the  Boulevards,  Fegee  with  Fifth  Avenue. 
If  it  be  urged  that  Eve  did  violate  a  command,  both 
reason  and  the  enlightened  religious  sentiment  have  the 
right  to  inquire  where  are  the  proofs  ?  Can  a  few  words 
of  doubtful  authenticity,  a  mere  fragment  of  a  book 
sharply  and  unanswerably  questioned  on  a  thousand 
other  points,  be  rationally  weighed  against  the  palpa- 
ble, universal,  irresistible  proofs  that  the  consequences 
of  that  attributed  act  are  good,  and  not  evil?  The 
benefits  of  our  human  knowledge  and  choice  of  good, 
the  incalculable  and  nameless  blessings  resulting  there- 
from— the  moral  distance  which  separates  the  most 
aspiring,   developed   soul,    from  the   naked,  grubbing 


1-12  WOMAN    AND    HEB    EEA. 

savage,  achieved  through  its-  possession — do  they 
weigh  nothing  against  these  few  words  arbitrarily 
uttered,  we  know  not  by  whom,  we  know  not  where, 
but  opposed  in  the  arrogance  of  a  purely  derived  au- 
thority, to  the  vast  results  of  human  experience  \  To 
me,  looking  at  the  grandeur  of  the  human  career  thus 
far,  and  the  greatness  of  its  awaiting  destiny,  there  is  a 
chilling  Atheism  in  the  bare  thought  of  trusting  the  one 
against  the  other.  For  what  is  ignorance  of  the  dis- 
tinction between  good  and  evil  but  the  animal,  infantile 
state  to  which  moral  growth  is  an  impossibility  ?  Do 
we  not  clearly  know  that  that  which,  more  than  any 
or  all  other  attributes  together,  distinguishes  the  human 
from  the  inferior  creatures,  is  just  the  capacity  for  this 
knowledge?  Is  it  not  for  this  knowledge,  its  growing 
perfection  and  use,  that  we  give  our  noblest  and  most 
devout  thanks  to  God  in  every  act  of  worship  ?  Is  it 
not  by  its  possession,  in  larger  measure  than  the  savage 
has  it,  that  we  bow  down  before  the  Unseen  God, 
instead  of  the  dead  Image  which  he  adores  1  Without 
it,  stagnation ;  a  mere  vegetative,  or  diabolic  exist- 
ence. For  we  can  only  think  of  the  human  being, 
lacking  it,  as  a  more  terrible  animal  for  the  organic 
perfection  in  which  he  is  clothed.  His  other  likenesses 
to  the  Divine,  of  form  and  intelligence,  must  have 
proved  his  heaviest  curse  and  that  of  the  world  in 
which  he  was  placed,  had  he  remained  without  this. 
The  gorilla  is  the  most  fearful  of  living  creatures  be- 
cause it  is  so  nearly  the  image  and  likeness  of  man,  yet 
unguided  by  the  human  intelligence  and  motives.  A 
locomotive  loosed  upon  a  track,  under  a  full  head  of 
steam,  with  no  engineer  in  control,  would  be  the  more 
dangerous,  the  more  perfect  its  machinery  in  size, 
parts,  and  working  power. 


RELIGIOUS    ARGUMENT.  143 

And  yet  we  are  asked  to  believe  that  mankind 
ped  this  terrible  lot,  and  the  earth  was  spared  the 
ravage  and  desolation  which  must  have  resulted  from 
it,  by  an  act  of  disobedience  to  a  divine  command.  I 
know  the  devoutness  of  spirit,  the  sincerity  of  motive, 
and  goodness  of  purpose  in  which  this  view  is  generally 
taught  and  entertained.  They  are  all  needed  to  save 
its  supporters  from  a  taint  of  unconscious  blasphemy 
against  the  great,  wise,  and  good  Designer  of  man  and 
his  destiny.  For  how  can  any  rational  soul  trust,  as 
of  divine  origin,  a  command  which,  had  it  been  obeyed, 
would  have  made  impossible  our  development  into  the 
spiritual  likeness  of  God,  and  the  other  progress  contri- 
butive  to  it,  which  we  have  achieved  and  still  see 
before  us  ?  Disobedience  to  a  divine  law  must  result 
in  evil.  If  good  comes  of  the  act,  we  are  not  simply  to 
question  the  divinity  of  the  law;  we  are  1  sound,  in 
reverence  to  its  reputed  Author,  to  deny  that  it  came 
from  him. 

If  you  put  an  infant  into  a  library,  and  surround 
liim  with  apparatus  and  collections  from  which  he 
might  get  all  human  knowledge,  yet  prohibit  his  learn- 
ing a  letter,  or  touching  with  a  finger  the  instructive 
objects  about  him,  thus  making  resources  and  opportu- 
nities as  if  they  were  not ;  and  if,  disregarding  this  pro- 
hibition, he  learns;  grows  wise,  great,  strong,  good, 
helpful — becomes  the  conscious  possessor  of  Godlike 
capacities  which  descend  to  his  offspring — the  creator 
of  noblest  opportunities  and  means  to  those  who  sur- 
round and  come  after  him  ;  if  then  you  charge  the 
violation  upon  him,  I  think  the  onus  is  fairly  shifted  to 
your  own  shoulders.  Instead  of  putting  him  upon  his 
defense  for  violation,  you  must  prove  wherein  your 
prohibition  was  entitled  to  he  considered  as  authorita- 


144  WOMAN    AND    HER    EEA. 

tive  at  all ;  and  not  diabolic  rather  than  divine  in  its 
origin  and  character.  A  law  requiring  us  to  do  evil, 
or  to  refrain  from  doing  good,  in  whatever  terms  it 
may  be  couched,  or  howTever  ancient  its  date,  can  never 
command  the  intelligent  assent,  much  less  the  respect 
or  reverence,  of  the  living  soul.  When,  therefore,  the 
sin  of  violating  the  divine  Will  is  urged  against  the  first 
Woman,  it  becomes  necessary  to  show  that  it  was  the 
divine  Will.  For  it  is  so  undeniably  true,  both  to 
Theologians  and  Thinkers,  that  to  "  know  good  and 
evil"  is  the  very  essence  of  a  moral  life  and  career;  and 
so  plain  that  a  moral  destiny,  based  upon  growth,  which 
is  possible  only  in  this  knowledge,  is  the  very  God- 
likeness  for  which  we  hunger  and  toil,  that  if  they 
could  be  won  only  by  disobedience,  the  unanimous 
voice  of  the  human  soul  must  respond,  "  disobedience 
then  let  it  be."  We  should  be  much  more  inclined  to 
attribute  the  prohibition  to  an  enemy,  and  the  encour- 
agement to  disregard  it,  to  a  wise,  loving  friend,  than 
the  contrary. 

I  repeat,  that  I  attempt  no  forced  interpretation  of 
the  narrative.  I  only  let  it  speak  for  itself  of  Woman. 
And  according  to  its  plain  language,  it  is  clear  that 
she  is  on  the  divine  side  all  the  time,  choosing  the  high- 
est, in  spite  of  alleged  command,  warning,  and  threat- 
ened peril ;  adhering  to  it,  sustaining  herself  and  man 
through 'the  pains  and  struggles  consequent  on  her 
choice — as  her  daughters  since  have  had  to  sustain  him 
at  his  best — drawing  him  on  to  see  with  her  clearer 
vision,  and  follow  in  her  footsteps.  On  the  whole,  I 
think  we  could  ask  of  Theology  nothing  more  honoring 
to  our  sex  than  this  very  attributive  history  ;  and  there 
is  but  a  single  point  further  in  the  Mosaic  statement  to 
which  I  will  ask  attention.     A  curse  is  pronounced 


RELIGIOUS    ARGUMENT.  145 

upon  Woman,  as  upon  the  other  offenders  in  this 
transaction.  Now  the  simple  aggravation  of  a  former 
natural  condition  could  scarcely  be  the  adequate  pun- 
ishment of  a  principal  criminal  in  a  matter  so  grave 
and  daring.  She  could  only  be  justly  punished  by  the 
reversal  of  some  former  estate  or  law  of  her  life,  which, 
having  been  her  happiness,  could  so  be  made  her  pain 
and  torment.  Thus  the  language  used  to  Eve,  clearly 
implies  that  before  this  affair,  she  had  been  regarded  as 
the  sovereign-being,  because  her  curse  was  in  being  put 
under  his  dominion.  If  she  had  been  there  before, 
this  was  child's  play.  One  does  not  curse  the  child  by 
placing  him  under  the  parental  authority  ;  for  so  Nature 
has  ordered  the  relation.  Hence,  it  is  plain  that  what 
politicians  call  the  Organic  Act,  had  made  Eve  sove- 
reign over  Adam,  and  her  curse  for  the  disobedience 
of  seeking"  light  that  was  forbidden  her,  lay  in  its 
reversal.  Was  this  the  death  that  was  threatened  ?  I 
leave  the  question  for  others  to  answer. 

II. — New  Dispensation. 

Woman  appears  also  at  the  origin  of  the  Christian 
Dispensation,  no  less  prominently  than  at  that  of  the 
Jewish.  Indeed,  the  feminine  seems  to  have  been  the 
only  root  of  that  higher  system  which  the  earth  could 
afford.  Womanhood  was  worthy  to  mother  it,  but  not 
Manhood  to  father  it.  Paternity  must  descend  from 
Heaven.  One  remembers  here  the  apt  answer  made 
by  a  reverent  woman  to  a  man  in  captious  mood,  who 
disputed  the  greatness  of  Maternity  :  "  I  never  heard 
of  but  one  that  was  born  without  a  father."  "  Granted, 
but  was  not  he  the  only  perfect  one?" 

The  record  is  abundant  in  evidence  of  the  deeper, 
1 


14:6  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

tenderer,  more  lasting  sympathy  of  the  Women  of 
Judea,  (undeveloped  as  they  were),  with  the  Christ, 
than  of  the  men.  Beside  that  their  watchful,  appre- 
ciative love  was  testified  in  lingering  latest  at  his  tomb, 
and  being  earliest  to  announce  his  resurrection,  they 
had  followed  him,  ministered  to  him ;  they  suffered 
with  him  at  the  Crucifixion,  shut  away  by  the  crowds 
of  rude,  bad  men  who  pressed  up  to  jeer,  and  buffet, 
and  torture  the  divine  victim  of  their  own  passions. 
One  of  the  twelve  whom  he  had  chosen,  sold  him  for 
money  ! — others  quarreled  who  should  be  first  in  honor 
and  authority  among  his  followers — the  ten  were 
angered  against  the  two,  when  it  seemed  possible  that 
they  might  come  to  preferred  places ;  and  the  worldly 
spirit  of  Peter  was  rebuked  by  him  as  Satan. 

This  Peter  will  bear  a  moment's  analysis  here. 
Strong-hearted,  rugged  of  will,  infirm  of  purpose,  loud 
in  profession,  but  too  weak  to  abide  therein,  he  seems 
to  have  been  fitly  chosen  as  keeper  of  the  keys.  A 
man  can  lock  or  unlock  a  door  by  the  brain  and  hand, 
the  heart  having  little  or  no  share  in  the  act.  A  jailor 
or  a  gatekeeper,  need  not  necessarily  be  the  illuminated 
disciple  of  the  cause  he  represents  at  its  outermost 
bound.  Faithful  to  his  post  he  ought  to  be,  surely ; 
but  he  may  be  this  from  his  brain,  his  pocket,  his  am- 
bition, his  will ;  any  one  of  a  dozen  inferior  motives. 
The  power  of  the  cause  is  not  represented  in  him — locks 
and  wards,  not  attraction  and  repulsion,  being  his  means 
of  retaining  and  excluding.  Peter  appears  to  have 
been  the  most  mannish — observe,  not  manly — of  all 
the  disciples ;  almost  blatant— without  hypocrisy  too. 
How  weak,  with  all  that  noise  and  protestation. 
"  Though  all  the  world  deny  thee,  yet  will  not  I." 
Yet,  in  the  next  hour,  when  this  divine  teacher  and 


RELIGIOUS    ARGUMENT.  14:7 

friend  has  fallen  into  the  hands  of  accusers;  rude, 
scornful,  insulting,  blind  enemies,  he  follows,  "afar 
off."  How  unlike  a  woman  capable  of  uttering  those 
fervent  words,  looking  prudently  to  his  chances  of  de- 
taching himself,  if  need  should  be,  from  the  falling 
fortunes :  And  at  a  later  hour,  seeing  the  tragedy  grow 
dark  and  darker,  as  time  passes,  he  swears  profanely, 
"  I  know  not  the  man." 

A  Woman,  delicate,  sensitive,  shrinking,  terrified 
by  the  sacrilegious  spirit  of  that  mob,  sickened  by  its 
wanton  cruelty  and  insult  of  its  victim,  would  never- 
theless have  pressed  near  him,  in  hope  that  she  might 
spare  him  some  pain  or  indignity,  by  receiving  it  her- 
self.    All  human  sentiment  attributes  this  to  her. 

"  She,  while  Apostles  shrank,  could  danger  brave, 
Last  at  the  cross,  and  earliest  at  the  grave." 

It  is  lit  that  Mary  should  represent  the  feminine  in 
this  great  experience,  and  Peter  the  masculine ;  that 
she  should  be  sung  by  Poet  as  divine,  and  painted  in 
the  most  exquisite  beauty  which  the  tenderest  and 
purest  soul  of  man  can  conceive,  with  a  heavenly  infant 
in  her  arms  ;  he,  a  hard-featured,  rugged,  tough-looking 
man,  with  a  ponderous  key  at  his  girdle.  The  por- 
traits may  be  accepted  as  symbolical.  How  like  both 
picture  and  sermon  of  Woman,  is  this  beautiful  Stabat 
Mater,  by  W.  J.  Fox. 

"  Jews  were  wrought  to  cruel  madness, 
Christians  fled  in  fear  and  sadness ; 
Mary  stood  the  cross  beside. 

"  At  its  foot  her  foot  she  planted, 
By  the  dreadful  scene  undaunted, 
Till  the  gentle  sufferer  died. 


148  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

"  Poets  oft  have  sung  her  story  ; 
Painters  decked  her  brow  with  glory  ] 
Priests  her  name  have  deified ; 

"  But  no  worship,  song,  or  glory, 
Touches  like  that  simple  story — 
1  Mary  stood  the  cross  beside.' 

"  And  when  under  fierce  oppression, 
Goodness  suffers  like  transgression, 
Christ  again  is  crucified. 

"  But  if  love  be  there  true-hearted, 
By  no  grief  or  terror  parted, 

Mary  stands  the  cross  beside." 

The  female  followers  of  the  Christ  never  quarreled 
among  themselves  for  his  favor — never  disputed  for  the 
honors  of  his  kingdom  ;  never  had  a  thought  of  betray- 
ing him  or  the  cause  for  their  own  profit,  for  envy, 
jealousy,  or  any  other  motive.  They  sat  at  his  feet  for 
instruction,  for  sympathy,  or  for  the  loving  service  they 
could  oifer  him. 

But  beside  this,  that  disciple  whom  he  loved,  was  a 
man  of  strongly  feminine  type.  No  contrast  could  be 
greater  than  that  between  John  and  Peter,  as  we  have 
them  in  Art.  It  matters  not  whether  we  accept  them 
as  real  or  ideal  portraits.  They  are  equally  to  the  pur- 
pose in  either  case,  since  in  the  one  they  would  repre- 
sent the  actual  man,  and  in  the  other,  the  conceptions 
of  artists,  who  study  Nature,  and  who,  being  of  all 
men,  most  familiar  with  the  material  lineaments 
through  which  she  expresses  the  invisible  qualities  of 
the  soul,  are  accepted  as  authority  in  such  matters. 

I  speak  not  of  the  Christian  teaching  respecting 
Woman,  because  my  aim  is,  not  to  set  forth  any  system 
or  expose  any  opinions  that  have  been  entertained  or 
rejected ;  but  simply  to  gather  up,  wherever  it  is  to  be 


RELIGIOUS    ARGUMENT.  149 

found,  the  vague,  widely  scattered,  half-expressed, 
blind,  often  misunderstood  evidence,,  that  in  the  human 
soul  there  has  always  existed  a  Sentiment  of  the  supe- 
riority of  the  feminine.  I  do  not  say  belief,  but  Senti- 
ment. Belief"  may  contradict  Sentiment,  or  ignore  it. 
Thus  we  have  seen  how  the  Sentiment  of  the  Mytholo- 
gic  ages  honored  and  worshiped  the  Feminine,  and  how 
the  practical  life  dishonored,  degraded,  and  outraged 
living  Women.  Sentiment  stands  farther  back,  and  is 
of  nearer  kin  to  Truth  than  Belief,  till  Belief  is 
thoroughly  enlightened  and  made  one  with  Truth. 

The  Biblical  evidence  for  Woman  is  always  implied, 
rather  than  direct,  and  has  therefore  admitted  of  every 
conceivable  variety  of  misinterpretation  which  the 
opposing  Will,  the  self-love,  and  the  intellect  of  man 
could  prompt  or  help  him  to — the  only  unvarying  fea- 
ture of  his  treatment  of  it,  being  the  distortion  of  the 
facts  and  narrations,  whether  they  were  accepted  as 
literal  or  allegorical,  to  face  exactly  opposite  their  true 
point.  For  here,  as  in  Mythology,  while  his  Sentiment 
exalted  Woman  to  the  rank  of  a  superior,  his  belief 
and  conduct  have  degraded  her  to  the  actual  position 
of  an  inferior. 

Farther  on,  I  shall  endeavor  to  show  some  of  the 
causes  of  this  inversion.  Here  it  must  suffice  to  ac- 
knowledge its  existence,  and  to  suggest  that  this  is  an 
age  of  Revolutions,  only  the  least  momentous  of  which, 
are  those  conducted  with  arms,  and  testified  in  blood. 
It  has  been  well  said,  that  History  is  re-written  in  the 
light  of  Modern  Science.  It  is  equally  true  that  human 
nature,  with  its  relations,  the  fountain  and  source  of 
history,  is  to  be  re-read  in  the  light  of  the  wondrous 
revelations  which  this  Nineteenth  Century  is  making 
of  its  hitherto  hidden  parts. 


CHAPTER    II. 

ESTHETIC   AEGUMENT. 
Painting  and  Sculpture. 

Religion  is  the  first-born  of  the  great  instinctive 
systems  of  Humanity ;  Art,  the  second.  In  the  earli- 
est period  of  their  development,  the  Arts,  called  liberal 
or  fine  arts — those  creative  of  Beauty,  as  distinguished 
from  the  ruder  arts,  creative  of  Use — were  each  under 
the  patronage  of  a  feminine  deity  or  deities,  while  the 
latter  were  assigned  to  males.  In  these,  the  patron 
god  became  an  artisan,  a  master-worker ;  in  those,  the 
goddesses  employed  persons,  whom  they  inspired.  Is 
there  a  prophecy  in  this,  that  Art,  in  its  ultimate,  be- 
longs to  the  more  beautiful  and  spiritual  sex,  and  that 
both  must  make  a  long  ascent  of  preparation  before 
they  become  fitted  for  actual  union,  and  mutual  devel- 
opment through  it? 

I  will  enter  into  no  speculations  here  which  may 
seem  fanciful,  but  will  simply  show,  so  far  as  I  am 
able,  the  language  of  Art  with  respect  to  the  rank  it 
assigns  to  Woman.  Conscious,  from  my  want  of  ac- 
quaintance with  Art,  of  inability  to  do  justice  to  this 
branch  of  my  subject,  I  shall  confine  myself  mainly  to  a 
statement  of  general  truths,  which,  although  they  may 
be  well  known,  have  perhaps  not  been  considered  in  the 
view  here  taken  of  them.  Also,  it  should  be  remembered 


B  5  111  ET1C     AEGUMEH  T.  151 

that  the  evidence  which  Art,  were  we  able  to  examine 
it  in  its  length  and  breadth,  might  afford  us,  would 
necessari]y  be  indirect,  because,  whatever  artists  have 
done  that  could  elucidate  this  question,  they  have  done 
while  wholly  unconscious  that  it  existed  or  could  ever 
exist.  They  have  worked  intuitively,  blindly,  from  the 
simple,  unenlightened  power  of  Nature  in  their  souls, 
whence,  from  time  to  time  throughout  the  whole  Art- 
period,  have  proceeded  such  dim,  beautiful,  confused, 
far-reaching,  ideal  proofs  of  the  diviner  exaltation  of  the 
feminine,  as  we  shall  presently  see.  If  Critics  had  ever 
written  to  show  what  Art  has  done  for  Woman  in  ac- 
knowledging her  nature ;  if  there  were  statistics  of  its 
treatment  of  her,  on  which  statements,  approximating 
correctness,  could  be  based ;  if  biographers  had  told  us 
generally,  of  gifted  artists  what  is  known  to  be  often 
true,  that  they  loved  to  employ  their  power  upon  female 
subjects,  and  felt  it  rather  a  descent  to  man,  there  would 
be  resources  which  one  would  greatly  prize  for  such  an 
effort.* 

But  the  candid  reader,  considering  what  must  be 
the  nature  of  the  evidence  and  its  scantiness,  for  all 
these  reasons,  will  consider  the  matter  rather  as  indi- 
cated than  stated  in  these  pages,  and  will  patiently 
await  the  fuller  development  of  it,  which  I  hope  these 
hints  will  call  forth  from  some  woman,  able  in  the 
gifts,  and  rich  in  the  opportunities  which  I  lack. 
Whereby  our  sex  may  come  to  the  knowledge  of  what 


*  I  should  like  to  see  Mr.  Buskin's  testimony  upon  this  point. 
No  man,  I  think,  hus  ever  studied  Art  so  generally,  faithfully, 
and  lovingly.  And  though  he  might  dissent  totally  from  the 
theory  of  the  feminine,  which,  to  my  judgment,  the  facts  would 
support,  yet  the  breadth  of  his  observation  in  the  art-world,  and 
his  conscientiousness,  would  give  his  report  an  inestimable  value. 


152  WOMAN    AN'D    HER    ERA. 

has  been  done  for  it,  by  those  Arts  which  the  early  in- 
tuition of  mankind  recognized  Woman  only,  as  fit  to 
personify. 

It  is  undeniable  that  Painting  and  Sculpture  have 
won  their  highest  honors — may  it  not  be  said  develop- 
ment too — in  the  treatment  of  Woman.  A  large  pro- 
portion of  the  celebrated  works  in  each,  treat  her  either 
exclusively,  or  principally,  or  subordinately.  And  this 
in  the  times  when  the  State  refused  her  all  civil  recog- 
nition ;  when  the  Church  honored  her  only  as  a  devo- 
tee ;  and  when  Society  paid  her  an  allegiance  which 
was  much  more  of  the  appetites  than  of  any  higher 
attributes.  Religious  Sentiment  and  Experience  are 
rarely  expressed  in  Art  without  her,  except  in  literal, 
historic  representation,  where  fact  requires  her  ab- 
sence. In  legendary  and  allegorical  Art,  she  is  fore- 
most, and  redeems  and  refines  them,  as  her  actual 
presence  does  the  scenes  they  exhibit.  Pictures  which 
illustrate  life,  are  narrow  in  their  appeals  to  individu- 
als and  classes,  if  Woman  is  excluded  from  them,  as 
e.  g.,  pot-house  pieces,  groups  of  roystering  students,  and 
bachelor  fire-sides,  whether  of  miser  or  reveler. 

Between  pictures  of  equal  merit,  composed  one  of 
male,  the  other  of  female  figures,  and  putting  out  of 
the  question  a  greater  power  in  the  subject  of  one  than 
the  other,  apart  from  sex,  the  audience  will  always  be 
found  before  the  latter.  So  of  a  statue.  The  Yenus 
de  Medici  outlives  all  male  marbles.  She  is  not  only 
visited  and  admired  by  men,  but  by  women,  who  either 
never  hear  of  the  Apollo  Belvidere,  or  pay  him  but  a 
scanty  homage,  if  they  do.* 


*  If  it  be  said,  as  I  think  it  may,  in  fairness,  that  the  earliest 
Art  treats  man  predominantly,  my  reply  is  that  that  is  what  might, 


ESTHETIC     ARGUMENT.  153 

In  marble  it  appears  to  me  that  the  artist's  power 
over  the  heart  is  small — above  the  fields  of  historic, 
heroic,  monumental  or  architectural  art — except  in  the 
treatment  of  the  feminine,  and  of  childhood.  The  lack 
of  accessories,  and  the  importance  of  expressing  a  body 
of  experience,  or  of  interior  life,  or  of  worshipful 
beauty,  each  more  characteristic  of  feminine  than  of 
masculine  nature,  reduce  him  almost  to  the  necessity, 
in  imaginative  art,  of  adopting  female  subjects  in  whom 
the  materiel  is  either  subordinate  or  so  beautiful  as  to 
please  in  itself. 

So  the  Greek  Slave  is  a  female,  though  the  out- 


a  priori,  be  expected.  Art,  like  science,  had  its  beginning  in  the 
recognition  and  treatment  of  the  most  manifest — of  the  physical 
therefore,  and  in  the  human  race,  of  man,  who  represents  it. 
Hercules  and  Perseus  both  were  heroes — so  have  been  all  the 
material  destroyers  and  builders  up.  In  the  era  of  the  lowest 
powers,  goodness  is  chiefly,  if  at  all,  regarded  for  its  amiability 
in  keeping  out  of  the  way — as  men  now  admire  the  namby-pamby 
goodness  of  womeu  who  form  no  opinions,  advance  no  standards, 
trouble  their  foul  and  subversive  social  state  with  no  questions, 
yet  believe  firmly  in  themselves,  because  they  remain  unspotted 
from  the  world,  while  those  who  are  faithful  to  higher  views  of 
goodness,  are  often  much  bespattered  in  its  fields  of  conflict. 
Even  beauty  is  little  acknowledged  when  the  physical  so  far 
predominates,  that  rugged  bodies,  by  the  ferocity  of  uses,  must 
needs  make  ferocious'  the  souls  within  them.  If  the  beauty  of 
Woman  is  the  inspiration  of  man  to  refinement,  that  he  may  be 
worthy  of  it,  nothing  is  more  clear  than  that  any  high  develop- 
ment of  it  would  be  thrown  away  upon  him  before  he  has  eyes  to 
see  it;  as  the  finest  order  of  spiritual  beauty  among  our  Cauca- 
sian women,  upon  the  savages  of  South  Africa  or  Australia.  If, 
therefore,  Art  should  begin  among  those  men,  it  would  commence 
in  the  treatment  of  forms  of  strcngt h  instead  of  beauty — would 
record  man,  and  neglect  Woman,  till  the  artists,  with  the  life  they 
were  portraying,  had  risen  to  the  feeling  that  beauty  is  a  higher 
form  of  power,  whatever  its  degree,  than  material  strength. 
7* 


154  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

ward  condition  was  common  to  both  sexes ;  and  Palm- 
er's young  Indian  Convert  is  a  girl,  in  preference  to  a 
youth  of  the  harder  sex.  It  is  idle  to  say  that  the 
feminine  is  adopted  as  an  appeal  to  men.  It  is  an  ap- 
peal to  women  also ;  and  if  any  artist  doubts  it,  let 
him  try  a  male  figure  for  Faith,  Devotion,  Hope, 
Melancholy,  Justice,  or  what  other  tender  or  noble 
sentiment  or  experience  he  pleases.  He  will  have  to 
put  his  own  soul  into  the  stone,  (if  indeed  with  this 
feeling  he  is  possessed  of  one),  to  save  it  from  ridicule, 
both  of  men  and  women. 

The  inspiration  of  the  artist  is  Woman,  or  the 
feminine.  He  paints  Mature  lovingly,  thinking  of  her 
as  a  Mother,  not  as  a  Father — rejoicing  his  soul  in 
her  loveliness,  her  bounty,  her  tenderness,  her  fidelity 
to  all  her  children.  In  the  treatment  of  Woman,  he  is 
in  a  measure  freed  from  the  hindrances  and  limitations 
of  the  material.  He  exults  in  his  freedom,  while,  ac- 
cording to  his  own  power  and  the  resources  of  his  sub- 
ject, he  is  either  recording  the  fine  organic  beauty  and 
perfection  plainly  visible  before  him,  or  drawing  forth 
and  making  visible  the  unseen  lineaments  of  the 
strong,  pure,  subjective  life — the  compassion,  the  ten- 
derness, the  devotion,  the  high  courage,  the  fortitude, 
the  love,  of  the  mistress,  wife,  daughter,  mother,  or 
friend.  The  canvas  glows  beneath  his  hand,  as  he  em- 
bodies there  the  thronging  conceptions  of  his  soul, 
because  that  is  warmed  and  moved  by  their  presence. 
He  is  enlarged  in  a  life  greater  than  his  own,  and  re- 
joices in  his  freedom.  He  does  not  touch  the  limits  of 
the  experience  which  has  recorded  itself  in  that  face, 
because,  while  his  are  possible  to  her,  either  in  fact  or 
by  their  correspondents  in  her  own  life,  hers  are  not 
possible  to  him.     She  is  exclusive  in  the  highest ;  and 


ESTHETIC    ARGUMENT.  155 

the  most  enriched  description  which  he  can  set  forth, 
while  it  may  overstate  her  personal  merits,  will  not 
overstate  those  of  Woman,  to  whom  her  nature,  with 
all  its  conceivable  excellences,  belongs.  He  paints  for 
the  love  of  his  work — pure  interest  in  what  he  is  cre- 
ating, as  the  representative  of  the  divinest  form  of  being 
that  he  can  sensibly  know. 

There  are  undoubtedly  more  portraits  of  females 
than  of  males  in  the  world,  for  this  among  other  rea- 
sons. Vandyke,  Reynolds,  Lawrence,  Knellar,  felt 
themselves  most  honored  in  their  portraits  of  women, 
as  worthiest  of  their  power,  and  men  who  had  beauti- 
ful daughters,  or  wives,  or  mothers,  hastened  to  have 
their  beauty  immortalized  by  the  hands  that  could 
treat  it  worthily. 

The  portraits  of  Christ  are  strongly  feminine.  They 
suggest  much  more  the  gentle,  compassionate,  loving 
nature  and  insight  of  Woman,  than  the  external  acute- 
ness,  and  rugged  masculinity  which  are  typical  of  the 
manhood  that  rushes  to  battle,  that  glories  in  material 
encounters  and  triumphs,  and  that  bases  its  self-respect 
upon  the  physical  or  intellectual,  rather  than  upon  the 
spiritual  or  love-power  it  possesses.  We  love  to 
think  of  Jesus  as  associated  with  women,  especially  in 
his  sufferings.  A  descent  from  the  Cross  having  no 
woman  in  the  group,  nor  any  head  or  face  of  feminine 
cast,  would  be  painfully  cold  and  harsh  to  look  upon. 
Woman  belongs  to  such  scenes  as  naturally  as  man  to 
the  battle-field.* 


*  I  am  reminded  here  of  a  noble  and  characteristic  picture, 
of  which  I  have  seen  only  the  engraved  copy.  It  is  Etty's  Joan 
d*Arc — the  scene  the  battle-field.  :•  he  is  mounted  on  a  formida- 
ble horse,  which,  full  of  the  passion  and  fire  of  the  occasion,  is 
about  to    trample   down    an    armed    foe   standing    before    him, 


156  WOMAN    AND    llER    ERA. 

Scenes  which  depict  the  Future  Life,  depend  still 
more  for  their  interest  and  power  on  the  presence  of 
females.  It  is  impossible  to  conceive,  from  the  en- 
gravings we  see,  that  Michael  Angelo's  Last  Judgment 
could   warm   or  move   any  but    a   bigoted,  cowardly 


whom  the  rider  sees  to  "be  aiming  at  her  life.  Her  heavy 
sword  is  upraised,  and  will  descend  and  cleave  his  skull;  but  the 
face  is  as  womanly  and  passionless  as  if  she  sat  in  a  drawing- 
room.  The  sublime,  but  calm  strength  of  a  great  purpose  looks 
out  from  it,  unstained  by  the  faintest  gleam  of  the  passion  or  fero- 
city of  the  warrior.  She  is  gazing  at,  but  also  beyond,  the  victim 
before  her,  and  though  she  knows  he  will  die  by  her  hand,  she 
exhibits  no  more  enmity  in  her  countenance  or  gesture,  than  if 
he  were  her  friend,  to  whom  she  would  speak  the  great  thoughts 
that  move  her.  Yet  you  see  that  she  will  do  what  is  before  her  to 
be  done. 

I  know  not  what  soul  of  Woman  could  look  on  that  picture 
and  feel  not  the  dew  of  thankfulness  to  the  Artist,  moisten  the 
eye  that  gazed.  Few  men  could  so  perfectly  conceive  the 
"Woman,  in  such  circumstances.  One  other  man,  an  artist  also, 
has  given  us  a  picture  in  these  lines : 

"  Yet  who  closer  marked  the  face 
That  o'erruled  the  battle-place, 
Much  had  marveled  to  discern 
Looks  more  calm  and  soft  than  stern. 
For  no  flush  of  hot  ambition 
Stained  her  soul's  unearthly  mission. 
It  aging  hate,  and  stubborn  pride, 
Warlike  cunning,  life-long,  tried, 
Low  before  that  presence  died ; 
For  within  her  sainted  heart 
Naught  of  these  had  found  a  part. 
God  had  willed  the  land  to  free ; 
Handmaiden  of  God  was  she. 
Ne'er  so  smooth  a  brow  before, 
Battle's  darkening  ensign  wore; 
And  'twas  still  the  gentle  eye, 
Wont  when  evening  vailed  the  sky, 
In  the  whispering  shade  to  see 
Angels  haunt  the  lonely  tree." 

Sterling's  Joan  d'ARC. 


ESTH  ETIO     A  KG  UM  EN  T.  157 

heart.  If  the  copies  are  true  to  the  original,  great 
brawny  angels  are  pulling  huge-bodied,  large-limbed, 
muscular,  anxious-looking  men,  up  the  steeps  of 
Heaven  ;  and  there  is  nowhere  the  sweet,  trusting, 
calm  face,  or  the  tender  form  of  a  woman  to  be  seen. 
One  shudders,  on  looking  at  it,  at  the  thought  of 
entering  a  heaven  containing  only  such  a  population. 

Angels  are  painted  as  females ;  and  the  angelic  or 
divine  is  sacrificed  in  proportion  as  the  head  and  face 
depart  from  the  feminine  type,  either  in  the  intellectual 
or  affectional  region.  In  short,  here,  as  in  Mythology, 
and  in  both,  as  in  life,  love,  purity,  devotion,  faith, 
trust,  hope,  are  uniformly  represented  by  the  sex  which 
most  perfectly  embodies  them ;  or  if  ever  by  a  male,  his 
portrait,  whether  in  colors  or  stone,  is  a  St.  John,  not 
a  St.  Paul  or  Peter. 

Po  ETEY. 

This  being  the  most  popular  of  the  Arts,  and  there- 
fore expressing,  quantitatively,  more  of  the  heart-life 
of  humanity  than  painting  or  sculpture,  is  more  abun- 
dant in  the  proof  we  are  seeking.  In  all  its  senti- 
mental forms,  as  also  in  that  purely  masculine  one 
which  is  called  amorous,*  (let  us  be  thankful  that  its 


*  It  is  worth  remembering  here,  that  while  men  make  "Wo 
man  the  subject  of  their  verse,  Women  rarely  return  the  compli- 
ment. Of  course,  this  curious  difference  could  only  arise  from 
the  respective  natures  as  subjects  of  Poetic  treatment.  The  earn- 
est, pure  poet,  is  such  by  the  necessity  of  his  or  her  nature  to  rise 
in  expression  to  the  higher,  the  ideal  •  which  the  feminine  is  to  the 
masculine  in  the  broad,  permanent,  heavenward  sense;  but  which 
the  masculine  is  to  the  feminine  only  in  certain  narrow,  transient, 
earthward  senses.  Beside,  when  women  address  verse  to  men, 
it  is  either  heroic  or  spiritual  in  its  character,  celebrating  sonio 


158  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

day  is  well  past),  Woman  is  constantly  characterized 
and  held  up  to  the  feelings  as  the  pure,  sweet,  angelic, 
divine,  heavenly  inhabitant  of  the  earth. 

I  shall  offer  none  of  the  lighter  or  lower  sorts  of 
proof  from  this  department.  Lines,  couplets,  stanzas, 
will  occur  to  the  memory  of  most  readers.  They  need 
not  be  set  down  here,  and  I  shall  give  the  space  they 
would  occupy,  to  nobler  guests.  But  before  proceeding 
to  the  examination,  let  us  premise  that  our  cause  would 
stand  without  it.  It  is  not  a  foundation  that  we  are 
to  lay,  while  wandering  among  the  grand  and  sweet 
prophets  who  have  spoken  in  verse.  It  is  rather  the 
development  of  exquisite  proportions  that  we  are  to 
accomplish,  the  uprearing  of  the  polished  shaft,  the 
unity — by  lines  of  beauty — of  detached  portions  into 
the  perfect,  symmetrical  whole  of  an  artistic  structure. 

Like  the  Painters  and  Sculptors,  the  Poets  have 
borne  their  testimony  unconsciously.  They  have  been 
voices  for  Nature,  who  has  spoken,  through  them,  the 
sublime  truths  which  Reason  in  its  crude  pride  rejected; 
which  Philosophy  could  not  see  because  its  infantile 
eyes  were  not  yet  opened ;  which  Science  could  not 
recognize,  because  she  did  not  yet  find  within  her  king- 
dom the  platform  of  facts  whereon  it  could  be  rested. 
Induction  can  teach  no  truth,  of  which  the  facts  are 
either  wholly  latent,  or  so  scantily  evolved  as  were  those 
demonstrative  of  Woman's  higher  rank  and  powers, 
even  so  late  as  two  centuries  ago — as  indeed  they  must 


brave,  or  humane,  or  noble  deed,  or  appealing  to  their  aspira- 
tions. It  is  an  invitation  to  men  to  meet  Woman  above  the  com- 
mon level  of  life,  not  below  it — an  appeal  to  the  higher  nature — 
not  to  the  senses.  Amorous  verse  from  Woman  to  men  is  un- 
known in  modern  times,  and  I  think  the  authenticity  of  the  little 
attributed  to  her  in  ancient  times,  may  admit  of  fair  doubt. 


ESTHETIC     AJIGUMKNT.  159 

continue  to  be,  while  she  remains  in  a  condition  of 
shivery.  For  bondage  can  illustrate  no  being,  human 
or  brute.  It  is  darkness,  suppression,  silence  ;  the  cha- 
racter and  intensity  of  these  evils  depending  on  the 
character  of  enslaved  and  enslaver.  It  has  done  a  ser- 
vice to  mankind;  for  through  it  the  inferior  intelli- 
gence and  powers  of  undeveloped  types  and  conditions 
have  been  brought,  for  the  time,  under  an  intelligent 
control,  and  thus  development,  good  for  all,  has  been 
advanced.  When  intelligent  self-love  can  see  and  do 
no  higher  thing  than  to  seize  upon  its  unintelligent 
brother,  and  compel  him  to  feed,  clothe,  enrich,  and 
make  it  powerful,  better  this  than  the  democracy  of 
mere  savageism  ;  for  so,  if  we  get  back  to  its  origin,  is 
all  progress  begun.  It  has  been  the  divine  plan, 
we  must  admit,  or  else  confess  that  God  has  been 
thwarted  by  his  creature.  And  thus  slavery  finds  an 
excuse  and  cause  in  the  early  necessities  of  the  race. 
It  made  available  for  human  development, the  powers 
which,  unguided,  would  rather  have  tended  to  human 
destruction.  But  its  excuse  ceases  as  soon  as  society 
reaches  that  point  on  the  road  of  progress  wherein  it 
can  see  a  nobler,  better  way ;  in  other  words,  as  soon 
as  we  are  approached  near  enough  to  the  divine,  to  see, 
as  God  sees,  that  brotherhood  is  a  stronger  bond  than 
iron  ;  love  a  more  sure  and  potent  means  to  good  than 
self-love. 

In  the  low,  desperate  struggle  of  the  physical  ages, 
even  the  bondage  of  Woman  had  its  beneficent  aspects 
for  humanity.  Her  finer  nature,  in  which  lies  her  only 
freedom,  could  neither  assert  nor  accommodate  itself 
in  those  tough  conflicts  with  the  material ;  in  that 
murky  atmosphere  of  storm  and  battle.  Better,  there- 
fore, that  it  should  be  temporarily  ignored  by  herself, 


100  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

as  well  as  by  the  legitimate  sovereign  of  those  epochs. 
For  so  she  could  better  render  the  service  required  of 
her  for  the  universal  good.  But  now  the  higher  way  is 
visible — is  open  here  at  our  feet,  Freedom  to  Woman, 
and  with  it,  universal  Freedom,  is  at  the  door.  We 
may  loose  all  the  shackles  ;  for  the  Lord's  year  of  Jubi- 
lee has  come. 

This  condition  of  Woman  in  the  past,  is  one  of  the 
reasons  why  all  Art  celebrates  her  nature  so  much  more 
than  her  action — her  Being  than  her  Doing.  It  would 
— I  speak  reverently — have  to  treat  angels  in  the  like 
manner.  The  Poet  therefore  of  past  time,  to  have  been 
true  on  the  Woman  Question,  must  have  been  a  man 
of  real  insight  and  Faith — an  illuminated  man.  Ima- 
gination, delicacy,  and  depth  of  feeling  for  Nature; 
patience  in  her  study,  large  capacity  to  analyze  her,  to 
resolve  man  and  his  affairs  to  their  ultimates;  the 
heart  to  burn  injustice  and  trample  its  ashes  under  his 
feet,  to  celebrate  power,  integrity,  nobleness  in  man ; 
none  or  all  of  these  qualities  are  sufficient  to  make  the 
poet  whom  Woman  is  to  crown — whom  her  era  can 
accept  as  one  of  its  immortals.  For  the  truths  of  her  lie 
beyond  this  man's  ken.  They  are  to  be  seen  only  with 
the  prophetic  eye  of  a  pure,  believing  soul,  and  through 
the  unflawed  lens  of  a  real  love.  The  man  who  is  inca- 
pable of  a  worshiping  love  for  Woman,  can  never  see 
her,  be  he  artist,  saint,  philosopher,  or  statesman  ;  while 
she  is  revealed  to  him  who  is  capable  of  this  passion, 
be  he  ever  so  humble  and  rude  otherwise.  It  is  only  in 
that  experience,  that  he  can  rise  to  behold  the  higher 
glories  of  her  nature. 

I  know  the  breadth  and  sharpness  of  dissent  I  am 
about  to  provoke, at  the  very  outset,here.  But  I  begin 
my  questionings  of  the  poets  with  him  whose  fame  is 


ESTHETIC    ARGUMENT.  101 

greatest  in  our  English  tongue.  And,  to  be  brief,  con- 
cise,  and  plain,  I  affirm  that  Shakspeare  has  said  little 
of  Woman  that  is  to  her  credit,  or  his  own.  His  genius 
was  of  Sight  rather  than  of  Insight.  Be  patient,  O 
admiring  man.  Justice,  so  far  as  I  am  able,  shall  be 
done  him  here  : — But  please  remember  that  it  is  you  ; 
not  your  wife,  daughter,  sister,  mother  or  female  friend, 
who  is  forever  quoting  him  in  the  chamber,  the  parlor, 
the  dining-room — on  the  pavement,  in  the  fields,  under 
the  stars,  under  the  sun,  under  the  clouds — by  the  sea- 
shore, and  in  the  forest,  in  the  work-shop,  factory,  cabi- 
net, school,  and  council.  I  admit  the  greatness ;  it  is 
only  its  quality  that  I  would  question.  It  is  you  who 
have  said  "  he  was  for  all  time."  She  knows  better, 
for  this  reason,  if  for  no  other,  that  he  never  foretold  a 
letter  than  he  saw. 

He  is  greatest  to  you,  because  he  is  the  very  incar- 
nation of  the  masculine  fancy,  imagination,  intellect, 
perception,  and  passional  life ;  because  he  had  power 
to  conceive  and  live  the  lives  of  men  ;  was  the  very 
mirror  of  experience  to  them.  To  the  imagination  and 
fancy  of  the  poet,  he  united  the  intellect  of  the  philo- 
sopher, the  observation  of  the  scientist,  and  the  pas- 
sional life  of  the  common  man.  I  do  not  wonder  you 
name  him  greatest.  Till  you  see  that  there  is  a  human 
horizon  which  includes  your  own,  you  may  well  think 
that  he  filled,  to  its  circumference,  the  circuit  of  human 
experiences.  But  it  was  only  the  masculine  circuit, 
and,  as  the  men  of  generations  in  the  near  future  will 
see,  not  by  any  means  the  largest  possible  to  that. 

Shakspeare  did  not  so  much  partake  the  spirit  of 
his  age  as  he  was  it ;  resuming  in  his  own  individuality, 
many  of  the  finest  capacities  the  race  had  ever  exhi- 
bited.    But  no  ray  of  prophecy  touched  that  brilliant 


162  WOMAN    AND    HEE    ERA. 

orb  at  any  point.  He  lacked  the  great  poet's  real  in- 
spiration. He  lacked  an  ideal  of  humanity  and  life. 
He  painted  external  Nature  with  the  hand  of  a  mas- 
ter— he  dissected  living  men  and  women  about  him, 
with  either  a  merciless  earnestness,  or  hon-liommie,  that 
was  all  his  own ;  he  lamented  feelingly  the  treache- 
ries, weaknesses,  vices,  meannesses,  selfishness  of  man- 
kind ;  but  he  foresaw  no  better.  He  doubtless  believed 
that  his  gallery  would  be  as  real  in  the  twenty-sixth  as 
in  the  sixteenth  century.  With  such  a  mind,  he  could 
only  give  up  the  worldly  verdict  of  his  day  and  pre- 
cedent history,  upon  Woman.  If  he  allowed  her  conse- 
quence at  all,  it  was  never  that  of  her  own  individu- 
ality, but  a  result  of  her  being  "  nobly  fathered  or 
husbanded."  If  she  had  personal  influence,  it  was  by 
her  power  over  the  sensual  life  of  man  ;  which,  being 
a  beastly  usurper  over  his  higher  nature,  made  him 
despise,  in  his  better  moments,  the  being  who  degraded 
him  by  ministering  to  it. 

Except  that  the  bountifulness  of  his  own  nature 
made  him  in  different  to  the  life  he  mixed  with,  he 
would  have  been  meanly  suspicious  of  Woman  ;  except 
that,  lacking  interior,  and  therefore  religious  life,  he 
cared  little  for  human  purity  beyond  its  decency,  he 
would  have  estimated  her  depravity  as  too  deep  to  be 
sounded.  The  goodness  that  he  possessed  was  sponta- 
neous, and  evidently  too  external  to  require  any  pro- 
found, theoretic  basis  for  its  support.  He  yearned  for 
no  ideal  man  or  woman  who  should  make  humanity 
illustrious,  and  excellence  lovely.  So  far  as  I  am 
able  to  study  him,  he  seems  to  have  been  destitute 
of  any  noble  theory  of  human  virtue — nay,  of  the  very 
fragments  of  such ;  and  with  this  defect  in  his  poetic 
constitution,  it  is  plain  that  he  must  have  believed 


EST1I ETIC    ARGUMENT.  [  63 

what  is  so  often  hinted  in  his  play^:  that  women  were 
less  gross  than  men,  more  from  lack  of  capacity  to 
equal  them  in  grossness,  than  from  any  nobler  cause — 
the  very  basest  order  of  inferiority. 

He  authorized  in  his  sentiments,  all  manner  of  pas- 
sional, sensual,  and  drunken  usurpation  of  man  over 
Woman — every  kind  of  force  to  degrade  her,  which 
the  law  did  not  punish,  and  only  felt  bound  to  satirize 
and  speak  coarsely  of  her  after  it  had  been  exercised  ; 
men  who  repeated  such  experiences  never  so  often  or 
basely,  being  no  less  heroes  for  his  dramas ;  fit  to  lead 
in  council,  rule  in  honorable  war,  and  receive  the  ho 
mage  of  society.  The  leading  characteristics  of  the 
feminine,  as  he  portrayed  it,  are  sensuality,  and  fickle- 
ness, its  uniform  attendant,  (in  either  sex) ;  capricious- 
ness,  vanity,  desire  to  be  loved,  more  for  the  power 
than  the  pure  happiness  of  it ;  a  disposition  to  exercise 
that  fleeting,  petty  power  tyrannically — so  tar  to  play 
the  man  on  the  child's  scale ;  weakness,  helplessness 
indeed,  against  temptation  ;  and  a  paramount  selfish- 
ness, which  is  only  modified  or  very  rarely  turned  into 
generosity,  toward  the  man  whose  love  permits  her  to 
love  in  return ;  for  which  end  chiefly,  in  its  narrow- 
est, most  material  sense,  she  seems  in  his  estimation  to 
have  been  created. 

It  is  true  that  Queen  Constance  is  a  loving  mother, 
and  she  lacks  gross  faults.  There  are  millions  such, 
else  the  world  would  be  poor  indeed.  Portia  and 
Calphurnia  were  reputable  wives,  respected  and  be- 
loved by  Roman  husbands.  Volumnia  was  a  courage- 
ous and  patriotic  mother.  But  they  are  no  ideals.  Their 
noblest  qualities  are  but  the  staple  virtues  of  average 
womanhood.  Desdemona  was  childish-innocent  and 
affectionate.     Is  that  so  rare  a  character?     Portia,  of 


164  WOMAN    AND    HER  ERA. 

Venice,  was  sensible,  courageous,  and  brilliant,  without 
vanity.  I  know  a  hundred  women  who  are  fully  equal 
to  her,  and  many  who  surpass  her  in  her  own  strong 
points.  Cordelia  was  a  better  daughter  than  her  dia- 
bolical sisters ;  but  is  that  a  model  character  of  Woman  ? 
Imogen  was  pure  and  loving ;  but  any  man  or  woman 
in  society  is  to  be  pitied,  who  does  not  know  a  score  or 
two  of  far  finer  girls.  Beatrice  was  bewitching  and 
nothing  worse — which  appears  to  have  been  a  pure 
piece  of  indulgence  to  her  sex  on  Shakspeare's  part. 
Rosalind  was  docile,  ingenuous,  and  honest;  as  the 
million  of  young  girls  are.  Ophelia  was  innocently 
crazy,  as  thousands  of  unhappy  young  women  have 
been,  and  Perdita  beautiful  and  confiding,  but  with  a 
speech  whose  freedom  would  at  once  exempt  her  from 
any  charge  of  fastidiousness.  But  I  find  little  other 
power  set  forth  in  these  characters ;  little  goodness, 
save  the  emptiness  of  evil.  The  highest  virtue  they 
exhibit  is  in  persistently  loving  a  father,  a  husband,  or 
a  son,  no  matter  how  great  a  miscreant  or  criminal. 
If  to  the  woman's  love  there  was  added  the  weak  obe- 
dience of  the  little  child,  which  conformed  in  all  things, 
wrong  as  well  as  right,  gross  as  well  as  pure,  mean 
as  well  as  noble — it  was  all  the  more  to  her  glory. 

Now  love  and  docility  to  those  we  love,  are  sweet 
and  exalting  to  the  spirit — but  they  may  also  be  very 
narrow,  and  wither  and  impoverish  the  life,  instead  of 
expanding  and  enriching  it. 

That  these  views  of  Woman  were  of  the  man,  not 
of  the  time  only,  becomes  evident,  when  we  turn  to  his 
contemporary,  Spenser.  He,  looking  with  the  inner 
eye  upon  Man,  Woman,  Society,  Life,  and  Manners, 
sees  in  them  quite  other  qualities ;  higher  uses,  and 
more  noble  dispositions  in  the  good ;  and  these,  widely 


ESTHETIC    ABGUMENT.  165 

removed  from  the  evil  and  malevolent ;  not  in  the  out- 
ward relations  and  offices,  wherein  life  constantly 
intermixes  them,  but  in  aims,  purposes,  and  tenden- 
cies. The  reflex  this,  in  Spenser's  earnest,  deep  mind, 
of  spiritual,  hidden  truths,  which  Shakspeare  had  no 
eye  to  see.  Spenser  attributes  the  worst  and  the  best 
to  the  feminine,  and  though  according  to  the  spirit  of 
his  day,  and  the  facts  most  patent  in  it,  he  sets  forth 
largely  the  sensual  in  life,  yet  both  womanhood  and 
manhood  are  constantly  being  redeemed  by  noble  indi- 
viduals who  appear  in  the  progress  of  his  Poem — the 
softer  sex  leading  in  the  virtues  and  traits  that  bear  a 
likeness  to  the  divine  or  angelic. 

Take  these  stanzas  from  the  Fairie  Queen : 

"  He  comming  home  at  undertime,  there  found 
The  fayrest  creature  that  he  ever  saw, 
Sitting  beside  his  mother  on  the  ground  j 
The  sight  whereof  did  greatly  him  adaw, 
And  his  base  thought  with  terror  and  with  aw 
So  inly  smot,  that  as  one  which  hath  gaz;d 
On  the  bright  sunne  unwares,  doth  soone  withdraw 
His  feeble  eyne  with  too  much  brightness  daz'd; 
So  stared  he  on  her,  and  stood  long  while  amaz'd. 

"  But  the  fayre  virgin  was  so  meek  and  myld, 
That  she  to  them  vouchsafed  to  embace 
Her  goodly  port,  and  to  their  senses  vyld 
Her  gentle  speech  apply d,  that  in  short  space 
She  grew  familiare  in  that  desert  place. 
During  which  time  the  Chorle,  through  her  so  kind 
And  courteise  use,  conceived  affection  bace, 
And  cast  to  love  her  in  his  brutish  mind  ; 
No  love,  but  brutish  lust,  that  was  so  beastly  tind. 

■'.  J/.  .»£.  Jf,  .u.  JA.  »'. 

•A*  •7V'  "TV*  *7f'  "7T  "7f*  *1v* 

"  That  daintie  rose,  the  daughter  of  her  morne, 
More  dear  than  life  she  tendered,  whose  flowre 


166  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

The  girlond  of  her  honour  did  adorn  : 
Ne  suffered  she  the  midday's  scorching  poure, 
Ne  the  sharp  northerne  wind  thereon  to  showre; 
But  lapped  up  her  silken  leaves  most  chayre, 
Whenso  the  froward  skye  began  to  lowre 
But,  soone  as  calmed  was  the  cristall  ayre, 
She  did  itfayre  dispred  and  let  it  florish  fayre. 

"  Eternall  God,  in  his  almightie  powre, 
To  make  ensample  of  his  heavenly  grace, 
In  paradise  whylome  did  plant  this  Flowre  ; 
Whence  he  it  fetcht  out  of  her  native  place, 
And  did  in  stocke  of  earthly  flesh  enrace, 
That  mortal  men  her  glory  should  admyre. 
In  gentle  Ladies'  breste  and  bounteous  race 
Of  womankind  it  fayrest  Flowre  doth  spyre, 
And  beareth  fruit  of  honour  and  all  chast  desyre. 

"  Fair  ympes  of  beautie,  whose  bright  shining  beames 
Adorne  the  world  with  like  to  heavenly  light, 
And  to  your  willes  both  royalties  and  reames 
Subdew,  through  conquest  of  your  wondrous  might; 
"With  this  fayre  Flowre  your  goodly  girlonds  dight 
Of  Chastity  and  Yertue  virginall, 
That  shall  embellish  more  your  beautie  bright, 
And  crowne  your  heades  with  heavenly  coronall, 
Such  as  the  Angels  weare  before  God's  tribunall ! 

"  To  youre  faire  selves  a  faire  ensample  frame 
Of  this  fayre  Virgin,  this  Belphcebe  faire; 
To  whom,  in  perfect  love  and  spotless  fame 
Of  Chastitie,  none  living  may  compayre ; 
Ne  poysnous  Envy  iustly  can  empayre 
The  prayse  of  her  fresh-flowring  Maidenhead  : 
Forthy  she  standeth  on  the  highest  stayre 
Of  th'  honorable  stage  ofwomanhead, 
That  Ladies  all  may  follow  her  ensample  dead. 

"  In  so  great  prayse  of  stedfast  chastity 
Nathless  she  was  so  courteous  and  kynde, 
Tempred  with  grace  and  goodly  modesty, 
That  seemed  those  two  vertues  strove  to  finde 


ESTHETIC     ARGUMENT.  167 

The  higher  place  in  her  heroick  mynd  : 
So  striving  each  did  other  more  augment, 
And  hoth  increast  the  prays  of  womankynde, 
And  hoth  increast  her  beautie  excellent : 
So  all  did  make  in  her  a  perfect  complement" 

Wordsworth  says  of  one  who  had  suffered  bitter 


"  Meek  saint!  thro'  patience  glorified  on  earth, 
In  whom,  as  by  her  lonely  hearth  she  sate, 
The  ghastly  face  of  cold  decay  put  on 
A  sun-like  beauty  and  appeared  divine." 

And  again  : 

"  Show  me  the  noblest  youth  of  present  time, 
Whose  trembling  fancy  would  to  love  give  birth  ; 
Some  god  or  hero,  from  the  Olympian  clime 
Returned,  to  seek  a  consort  upon  earth  ; 
Or,  in  no  doubtful  prospect,  let  me  see 
The  brightest  star  of  ages  yet  to  be, 
And  I  will  mate  and  match  him  blissfully. 

"  I  will  not  fetch  a  Naiad  from  a  flood 
Pure  as  herself — (song  lacks  not  mightier  power) 
Nor  leaf-crowned  Dryad  from  a  pathless  wood, 
Nor  sea-nymph  glistening  from  her  coral  bower; 
Mere  mortals  bodied  forth  in  vision  still, 
Shall  with  Mount  Ida's  triple  luster  fill 
The  chaster  coverts  of  a  British  hill. 
-::-  -x-  #  *  #  *•  -x- 

"  What  more  changeful  than  the  sea  ? 

But  over  his  great  tides, 

Fidelity  abides, 

And  this  light-hearted  maiden  constant  is  as  he. — 

High  is  her  aim  as  heaven  above, 

And  wide  as  ether  her  good  will, 

And  like  the  lowliest  reed,  her  love 

Can  drink  its  nurture  from  the  scantiest  rill ; 

Insight  as  keen  as  frosty  star 

Is  to  her  charity  no  bar. 
•x-  -;•:-  #  -x-  *  -x-  -X- 


168  WOMAN    AXD    HER    EEA. 

Softly  she  treads,  as  if  her  foot  were  loth 
To  crush  the  mountain  dew-drops  soon  to  melt 
On  the  flower's  breast ;  as  if  she  felt 
That  flowers  themselves,  whatever  their  hue, 
With  all  their  fragrance,  all  their  glistening, 
Call  to  the  heart  for  inward  listening/"'* 

Take  also  this,  from  the  same  author,  which  will 
never  wear  out  while  there  is  a  heart  to  love  our 
English  tongue  or  revere  Woman. 

"  She  was  a  phantom  of  delight 
"When  first  she  gleamed  upon  my  sight; 
A  lovely  apparition,  sent 
To  be  a  moment's  ornament ; 
Her  eyes  as  stars  of  twilight  fair ; 
Like  twilight,   too,  her  dusky  hair ; 
But  all  things  else  about  her  drawn 
From  May-tinie  and  the  cheerful  dawn ; 
A  dancing  shape,  an  image  gay, 
To  haunt,  to  startle  and  waylay. 

"  I  saw  her  upon  nearer  view, 
A  spirit,  yet  a  woman  too  ! 
Her  household  motions  light  and  free, 
And  steps  of  virgin  liberty  ; 
A  countenance  in  which  did  meet 
Sweet  records,  promises  as  sweet ; 
A  creature  not  too  bright  or  good 
For  human  nature's  daily  food ; 
For  transient  sorrows,  simple  wiles, 
Praise,  blame,  love,  kisses,  tears,  and  smiles. 

"  And  now  I  see,  with  eye  serene, 
The  very  pulse  of  the  machine; 


* "  you  will  find  that  only  in  a  society  formed  by  the 

mutual  love  and  confidence  of  women,  in  which  there  is  no  envy 
or  jealousy  of  each  other,  but  only  perfect  order  and  harmony 
from  the  unrestrained  and  unviolated  action  of  these  laws, 
making  of  all  one  woman,  can  the  purest  and  holiest  affections  of 
W Oman's  nature  find  gratification,  and  no  natural  instinct,  even 
of  an  animal  or  a  plant,  he  violated." — Letter  from  Dr.  J.  W. 
Kedfield,  Nov.,  1858. 


ESTHETIC    ARGUMENT.  169 

A  being  breathing  thoughtful  breath, 
A  traveler  between  life  and  death  ; 
The  reason  firm,  the  temperate  will, 
Endurance,  foresight,  strength,  and  skill; 
A  perfect  "Woman,  nobly  planned 
To  warn,  to  comfort  and  command ) 
And  yet  a  spirit  still,  and  bright 
"With  something  of  an  angel  light." 

Coleridge  says : 

"  Maid  of  my  Love,  sweet  Genevieve ! 

In  Beauty's  light  you  glide  along  : 
Your  eye  is  like  the  star  of  eve, 

And  sweet  your  voice,  as  seraph's  song. 
Yet  not  your  heavenly  beauty  gives 

This  heart  with  passion  soft  to  glow ; 
Within  your  soul  a  voice  there  lives  ! 

It  bids  you  hear  the  tale  of  woe, 
And  therefore  love  I  you,  sweet  Genevieve." 

Shelley;  the  gifted,  whose  day  is  not  yet,  says  to 
his  worshiped  Mary : 

*  Thou  Friend,  whose  presence  on  my  wintry  heart 
Fell  like  bright  spring  upon  some  herbless  plain, 
How  beautiful,  and  calm,  and  free  thou  wert, 
In  thy  young  wisdom,  when  the  mortal  chain 
Of  Custom  thou  didst  burst  and  rend  in  twain, 
And  walked  as  free  as  light  the  clouds  among. 
******** 

And  what  art  thou  ?     I  know,  but  dare  not  speak  : — 

Time  may  interpret  to  his  silent  years. 
Yet  in  the  paleness  of  thy  thoughtful  cheek, 

And  in  the  light  thine  ample  forehead  wears, 

And  in  thy  sweetest  smiles,  and  in  thy  tears, 
And  in  thy  gentle  speech,  a  prophecy 

Is  whispered  to  subdue  my  fears: 
And  through  thine  eyes,  even  in  thy  soul  I  see 
A  lamp  of  vestal  fire  burning  internally." 
8 


170  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA: 

Amd  in  that  unmatchable  poem,  Epipsychidion,  he 
says : 

"  Spouse  !  Sister !  Angel !  Pilot  of  the  fate 
Whose  course  has  been  so  starless !     0  too  lato 
Beloved !  0  too  soon  adored,  by  me ! 
For  in  the  fields  of  immortality 
My  spirit  should  at  first  have  worshiped  thine, 
A  divine  presence  in  a  place  divine ; 
Or  should  have  moved  beside  it  on  this  earth 
A  shadow  of  that  substance  from  its  birth. 

^  *  *  *  *  * 

Seraph  of  heaven  !  too  gentle  to  be  human, 
Vailing  beneath  that  radiant  form  of  Woman 
All  that  is  insupportable  in  thee, 
Of  light,  and  love,  and  immortality  ! 
Sweet  Benediction  in  the  eternal  curse  ! 
VaiFd  Glory  of  this  lampless  universe  ! 
Thou,  Harmony  of  Nature's  art ! 

I  measure 
The  world  of  fancies,  seeking  one  like  thee, 
And  find — alas  !  mine  own  infirmity  !" 

Milnes  writes : 

"  Because  from  all  that  round  thee  move 
Planets  of  Beauty,  Strength,  and  Grace, 

I  am  elected  to  thy  love, 

And  have  my  home  in  thy  embrace ; 

I  wonder  all  men  do  not  see 

The  crown  that  thou  hast  set  on  me. 

"  The  mirror  from  its  glossy  plain 
Receiving,  still  returns  the  light, 
And,  being  generous  of  its  gain, 

Augments  the  very  solar  might ; 
What  unreflected  light  would  be 
Is  just  thy  spirit  without  meP 

How  full  of  generous,  manly  acknowledgment  is 
this  poem  of  Schiller's,  especially  the  second  and  third 
stanzas : 


ESTHETIC    ARGUMENT.  171 

u  I  saw  her  still,  with  many  a  fair  one  nigh, 
Of  every  fair  the  stateliest  shape  appear; 
Like  a  lone  sun  she  shone  upon  my  eye — 
I  stood  afar  and  durst  not  venture  near. 
Seized,  as  her  presence  brightened  round  me,  by 

The  trembling  passion  of  voluptuous  fear, 
Yet,  swift  as  borne  upon  some  hurrying  wing, 
The  impulse  snatched  me  and  I  struck  the  string. 

"  What  then  I  felt — what  sung — my  memory  hence 
From  that  wild  moment  would  in  vain  invoke — 
It  was  the  life  of  some  discovered  sense 

That  in  the  heart's  divine  emotion  spoke; 
Long  years  imprisoned,  and  escaping  thence 

From  every  chain,  the  Soul  enchanted  broke, 
And  found  a  music  in  its  own  deep  core, 
Its  holiest,  deepest  deep,  un guessed  before. 

"  Like  melody  long  hushed,  and  lost  in  space, 
Back  to  its  home  the  breathing  spirit  came  : 

I  looked  and  saw  upon  that  angel  face 

The  fair  love  circled  with  the  modest  shame ; 

I  heard  (and  heaven  descended  on  the  place) 

Low-whispered  words  a  charmed  truth  proclaim — 

Save  in  thy  choral  hymns,  O  spirit-shore, 

Ne'er  may  I  hear  such  thrilling  sweetness  more  l>} 

Here  is  the  testimony  of  a  man  of  our  own  countrj 
and  day,  Mr.  Lowell.  There  is  nothing  equivocal  or 
uncertain  in  the  ring  of  this  Sonnet : 

"  I  cannot  think  that  thou  shouldst  pass  away, 

Whose  life  to  mine  is  an  eternal  law, 

A  piece  of  nature  that  can  have  no  flaw, 
A  new  and  certain  sunrise  every  day  • 
But,  if  thou  art  to  be  another  ray 

About  the  Sun  of  Life,  and  art  to  live 

Free  from  all  of  thee  that  was  fugitive, 
The  debt  of  Love  I  will  more  fully  pay, 

Not  downcast  with  the  thought  of  thee  so  high; 
But  rather  raised  to  be  a  nobler  man, 


172  WOMAN    AND    HER    EKA. 

And  more  divine  in  my  humanity, 
As  knowing  that  the  waiting  eyes  which  scan 
My  life  are  lighted  by  a  purer  being, 
And  ask  meek,  calmed-browed  deeds,  with  it  agreeing." 

And  this  prayer  comes  from  still  clearer  and  calmer 
depths  of  true  poetic  insight : 

"  God !  do  not  let  my  loved-one  die, 

But  rather  wait  until  the  time 
That  I  am  grovm  in  purity 

Enough  to  enter  thy  pure  clime, 
Then  take  me — I  would  gladly  go, 

So  that  my  love  remain  below  ! 

"  0  let  her  stay  !     She  is  by  birth 

What  I  through  death  must  learn  to  be. 
We  need  her  more  on  our  poor  earth, 

Than  thou  canst  need  in  heaven  with  thee : 
She  hath  her  wings  already  ;  I 
Must  burst  this  earth-shell  ere  I  fly. 

"  Then,  God,  take  me  !     We  shall  be  near, 

More  near  than  ever,  each  to  each  : 
Her  angel  ears  will  find  more  clear 

My  heavenly  than  my  earthly  speech  ; 
And  still,  as  I  draw  nigh  to  Thee,- 
Her  soul  and  mine  shall  closer  be." 

The  following  stanzas  are  attributed  to  the  same 
author.  I  do  not  find  them  anions  his  collected 
poems  ;  but  wherever  they  come  from,  they  are  worthy 
of  the  best  place  I  can  give  them. 

"  My  beautiful  Irene,  my  loveliest,  my  best! 
Thou  liest  all  about  my  soul,  thou  fillest  me  with  rest; 
Thy  blue  eyes  circle  round  me,  as  heaven  doth  the  earth; 
I  only  feel  how  blest  am  I,  that  of  thy  love  am  worth. 

"  Thou  comest  to  me  when  asleep,  thou  lookest  in  mine  eyes ; 
And  I  feel  as  when  the  holy  stars  bend  on  me,  from  the  skies ; 
Thou  art  so  very  beautiful,  so  holy,  so  divine, 
That  I  could  know  no  perfect  rest  in  any  love  but  thine. 


ESTHETIC     ARGUMENT.  173 

"  Thou  flowest  round  and  round  me ;  thy  love  is  like  the  air, 
Which  with  an  unfelt  sympathy  doth  gird  me  everywhere; 
I  do  not  feel  jts  ministry,  and  yet  I  know  that  I, 
Without  its  silent  blessedness,  should  wither  up  and  die.'; 

Whittier  says  of  one  who  has  departed : 

"  And  half  we  deemed  she  needed  not 
The  changing  of  her  sphere, 
To  give  to  Heaven  a  shining  one, 
Who  walked  an  angel  here. 

"  The  blessing  of  her  quiet  life 
Fell  on  us  like  the  dew ; 
And  good  thoughts,  where  her  footsteps  pressed 
Like  fairy  blossoms  grew. 

"  We  read  her  face  as  one  who  reads 

A  true  and  holy  book: 
The  measure  of  a  blessed  hymn, 

To  which  our  hearts  could  move ; 
The  breathing  of  an  inward  psalm; 

A  canticle  of  love." 

Here  is  a  passage  from  Tennyson's  portrait  of 
Eleanore.  It  is  not  a  man  only  who  sees  snch  eyes  in 
women.  We  see  them  and  glory  in  them,  but  with  a 
different  feeling,  as  much  as  he.  Women  who  feel 
Womanhood  as  a  power  in  God's  system  of  tilings, 
rejoice  in  its  wealth  no  less  than  men  in  the  charms  of 
the  one  woman  whom  they  admire  or  love,  and  wish  to 
call  their  own.  Only  we  rejoice  with  thankfulness  for 
a  noble  woman,  wherever  she  may  be,  and  they  with 
craving,  or  self-gratulation  that  she  is,  and  is  theirs. 
"Sometimes  with  most  intensity, 
Gazing,  I  seem  to  see 

Thought  folded  over  thought,  smiling  asleep, 
Slowly  awakened,  grow  so  full  and  deep 
In  thy  large  eyes,  that,  overpowered  quite, 
I  cannot  vail,  or  droop  my  sight, 
But  am  as  nothing  in  its  light : 


174  WOMAN    AND    HEB    ERA. 

As  though  a  star,  in  inmost  heaven  set, 
Even  while  we  gaze  on  it, 
Should  slowly  round  his  orb  and  slowly  grow 
To  a  full  face,  then  like  a  sun  remain 
Fixed — then  as  slowly  fade  again, 

And  draw  itself  to  what  it  was  before ; 
So  full,  so  deep,  so  slow, 
Thought  seems  to  come  and  go 
In  thy  large  eyes,  imperial  Eleanore." 

Consider  too  the  part  of  Woman  in  the  historic 
fact,  rendered  in  the  following  poem  from  the  same 
author : 

"  Not  only  we,  the  latest  seed  of  Time, 
New  men,  that  in  the  flying  of  a  wheel 
Cry  down  the  past,  not  only  we,  that  prate 
Of  rights  and  wrongs,  have  loved  the  people  well, 
And  loathed  to  see  them  overtaxed ;  but  she 
Did  more,  and  underwent,  and  overcame, 
The  woman  of  a  thousand  summers  back, 
Godiva,  wife  to  that  grim  Earl,  who  ruled 
In  Coventry  :  for  when  he  laid  a  tax 
Upon  his  town,  and  all  the  mothers  brought 
Their  children,  clamoring, '  If  we  pay,  we  starve  !' 
She  sought  her  lord,  and  found  him,  where  he  strode 
About  the  hall,  among  his  dogs,  alone, 
His  beard  a  foot  before  him,  and  his  hair 
A  yard  behind.     She  told  him  of  their  tears, 
And  prayed  him  '  If  they  pay  this  tax,  they  starve.' 
"Whereat  he  stared,  replying,  half-amazed, 
1  You  would  not  let  your  little  finger  ache 
For  such  as  these  V — '  But  I  would  die/  said  she. 
He  laughed,  and  swore  by  Peter  and  by  Paul : 
Then  filliped  at  the  diamond  in  her  ear ; 
'  0,  ay,  ay,  ay,  you  talk  !; — '  Alas!'  she  said, 
'  But  prove  me  what  it  is  I  would  not  do.' 
And  from  a  heart  as  rough  as  Esau's  hand, 
He  answered,  '  Ride  you  naked  through  the  town, 
And  I  repeal  it;'  and  nodding,  as  in  scorn, 


ESTHETIC    AB0DMMNT.  175 

He  parted,  with  great  strides,  among  his  dogs. 

So  left  alone,  the  passions  of  her  mind, 

As  winds  from  all  the  compass  shift  and  blow, 

Made  war  upon  each  other  for  an  hour, 

Till  pity  won.     She  sent  a  herald  forth, 

And  bade  him  cry,  with  sound  of  trumpet,  all 

The  hard  condition ;  but  that  she  would  loose 

The  people  :  therefore,  as  they  loved  her  well, 

From  then  till  noon  no  foot  should  pace  the  street; 

No  eye  look  down,  she  passing;  but  that  all 

Should  keep  within,  door  shut,  and  window  barred. 

Then  lied  she  to  her  inmost  bower,  and  there 

Unclasped  the  wedded  eagles  of  her  belt, 

The  grim  Earl's  gift;  but  ever  at  a  breath 

She  lingered,  looking  like  a  summer  moon 

Half-dipt  in  cloud :  anon  she  shook  her  head, 

And  showered  the  rippled  ringlets  to  her  knee ; 

Unclad  herself  in  haste  ;  adown  the  stair 

Stole  on  ;  and,  like  a  creeping  sunbeam,  slid 

From  pillar  unto  pillar,  until  she  reached 

The  gateway;  there  she  found  her  palfrey  trapt 

In  purple  blazoned  with  armorial  gold. 

Then  she  rode  forth,  clothed  on  with  chastity  : 
The  deep  air  listened  round  her  as  she  rode, 
And  all  the  Ioav  wind  hardly  breathed  for  fear. 
The  little  wide-mouthed  heads  upon  the  spout 
Had  cunning  eyes  to  see  ;  the  barking  cur 
Made  her  cheek  flame  :  her  palfrey's  foot-fall  shot 
Light  horrors  through  her  pulses :  the  blind  Avails 
"Were  full  of  chinks  and  holes;  and  overhead 
Fantastic  gables,  crowrding,  stared;  but  she 
Not  less  through  all  bore  up,  till,  last,  she  saw 
The  white-flowered  elder  thicket  from  the  field 
Gleam  through  the  Gothic  archways  in  the  wall. 

Then  she  rode  back,  clothed  on  writh  chastity. 
And  one  low  churl,  compact  of  thankless  earth, 
The  fatal  byword  of  all  years  to  come, 
Boring  a  little  auger-hole  in  fear, 
Peeped — but  his  eyes,  before  they  had  their  will, 
Were  shriveled  into  darkness  in  his  head, 


176  WOMAN    AND    HER    EEA. 

And  dropt  before  him.     So  the  Powers  who  wait 

On  noble  deeds,  canceled  a  sense  misused; 

And  she,  that  knew  not,  passed :  and  all  at  once, 

With  twelve  great  shocks  of  sound,  the  shameless  nooD 

Was  clashed  and  hammered  from  a  hundred  towers, 

One  after  one  :  but  even  then  she  gained 

Her  bower  •  whence  reissuing,  robed  and  crowned, 

To  meet  her  lord,  she  took  the  tax  away, 

And  built  herself  an  everlasting  name." 

How  characteristic  of  Woman's  courage,  and  of  the 
causes  that  summon  it  to  action.  Kot  conquest,  not 
glory,  not  gain,  not  the  hope  of  self-advancement — 
simply  the  divine  necessity  to  help  those  who  need 
help — not  regardless  of  cost  to  herself,  but  setting  it 
aside,  so  but  the  good  be  won.  I  wonder  that  no  ar- 
tist has  put  these  exquisite  pictures  into  colors. 

Here  are  some  lines  from  a  noble  poem,  "  The 
Bothie  of  Toper-na-Fuosich,"  published  several  years 
since,  though  but  little  known,  except  to  a  small  class 
of  readers.  This  writer  would  well  feel  the  difference 
wdiich  Mr.  Carlyle  suggests  between  the  universe  seen 
by  JSewton,  and  that  by  his  dog  Diamond.  He  knows 
that  while  a  man's  eye  naturally  seeks  and  takes  in 
images  and  impressions,  a  woman's  as  naturally  gives 
them  out.  The  kingdom  of  action,  for  us,  being  icithout 
him,  and  within  her. 

"  I  was  walking  along  some  two  miles  from  the  cottage, 
Full  of  my  dreamings— a  girl  went  by  in  a  party  with  others; 
She  had  a  cloak  on,  was   stepping  on  quickly,  for  rain  was 

beginning ; 
Eut  as  she  passed,  from  the  hood  I  saw  her  eyes  look  at  me. 
So  quick  a  glance,  so  regardless  I,  that  altho'  I  felt  it, 
You  couldn't  properly  say  our  eyes  met.     She  cast  it,  and 

left  it : 
It  was  three  minutes  perhaps  ere  I  knew  what  it  was.     I  had 

seen  her 


ESTHETIC     ARGUMENT.  177 

Somewhere  before   1   ani  sure,  but  that  was  not  it — not   its 

import  j 
No,  it  had  seemed  to  regard  me  with  simple  superior  insight, 
Quietly  saying  to  itself, " 

And  later  in  Lis  story,  tliis  writer  says : 

"  "Why  when  the  chill,  ere  the  light,  of  the  daybreak  uneasily 
wakes  me, 
Find  I  a  cry  in  my  heart,  crying  up  to  the  heaven  of  heavens, 
No,  Great  Unjust  Judge :  she  is  purity  ;  I  am  the  lost  one. 
crush  me,  if  thou  wilt,  who  deserve  it." 

And  again,  Shelley  in  the  Cenci : 

" Yet  I  fear 

Her  subtile  mind,  her  awe-inspiring  gaze, 
Whose  beams  anatomize  me,  nerve  by  nerve, 
And  lay  me  bare,  and  make  me  blush  to  see 
My  hidden  thoughts." 

Mrs.  Hemans  contributes  to  the  same  thought  these 
lines : 

"  And,  as  her  cheek  flush' d  thro'  its  olive  hue 
As  her  black  tresses  to  the  night-wind  flew, 
Something  o'ermastered  them  from  that  young  mien; 
Something  of  heaven,  in  silence  felt  and  seen; 
And  seeming  to  their  child-like  faith,  a  token 
That  the  Great  Spirit  by  her  voice  had  spoken." 

And  Miss  Jewsbury,  I  think  it  is,  who  says  some- 
where— I  have  forgotten  the  connection  of  the  lines  : — 

"  Nor  look,  nor  tone  revealeth  aught 
Save  Woman's  quietness  of  thought, 
And  yet  around  her  is  a  light 
Of  inivard  majesty  and  might." 

In  a  different  vein,  but  evincing  the  same  percep- 
tion of  the  peculiar  character  of  Woman's  power,  is 
this  declaration  from  Alexander  Smith  : 

"  She  grows  on  me  like  moonrise  on  the  night — 
My  life  is  shaped  in  spiti  of  me,  the  same 
As  Ocean  by  his  shores." 
8* 


178  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

Spenser,  whom  I  recall  here,  says : 

"  Long  while  I  sought  to  what  I  might  compare 
Those  powerful  Eyes,  which  lighten  my  dark  spirit; 
Yet  found  I  naught  on  earth  to  which  I  dare 
Resemble  the  Image  of  their  goodly  light. 

Then  to  the  Maker's  self  they  likest  be; 

"Whose  light  doth  lighten  all  that  here  we  see." 

Sncli  poems  as  this  of  Reverence,  by  W.  E.  Chan- 
ning,  give  one  a  glowing  spark  of  needed  inspiration 
for  the  coming  issne.  Thank  God  for  every  sonl  of 
man  that  sees  with  such  clear  womanly  eyes.  Souls  of 
women  there  will  be  many  to  see  thus  when  the  light 
shall  reach  them. 

" But  what  to  all  true  eyes  has  chiefest  charm, 


And  what  to  every  breast  where  beats  a  heart 

Framed  to  one  beautiful  emotion — to 

One  sweet  and  natural  feeling,  lends  a  grace 

To  all  the  tedious  walks  of  common  life, 

This  is  fair  Woman — Woman,  whose  applause 

Each  poet  sings — Woman  the  beautiful. 

Not  that  her  fairest  brow  or  gentlest  form 

Charm  us  to  tears;  not  that  the  smoothest  cheek, 

Where  ever  rosy  tints  have  made  their  home, 

So  rivet  us  on  her ;  but  that  she  is 

The  subtile,  delicate  grace — the  inward  grace, 

For  words  too  excellent ;  the  noble,  true, 

The  majesty  of  earth ;  the  summer  queen  : 

In  whose  conceptions  nothing  but  what's  great, 

Has  any  right.     And  0  !  her  love  for  him, 

Who  does  but  his  small  part  in  honoring  her; 

Discharging  a  sweet  office,  sweeter  none, 

Mother  and  child,  friend,  counsel,  and  repose ; 

Naught  matches  with  her,  naught  has  leave  with  her 

To  highest  human  praise.     Farewell  to  him 

Who  reverences  not  with  an  excess 

Of  faith  the  beauteous  sex  ;  all  barren  he 

Fhall  live  a  living  death  of  mo-ckery. 


ESTHETIC     ARGUMENT.  179 

"Ah!  had  but  words  the  power,  what  could  we  say 
Of  Woman  ?      We,  rude  men,  of  violent  phrase, 
Harsh  action,  even  in  repose  inwardly  harsh; 
Whose  lives  walk  blustering  on  high  stilts,  removed 
From  all  the  purely  gracious  influence 
Of  mother  earth.     To  single  from  the  host 
Of  angel  forms  one  only,  and  to  her 
Devote  our  deepest  heart  and  deepest  mind 
Seems  almost  contradiction.     Unto  her 
We  owe  our  greatest  blessings,  hours  of  cheer, 
Gay  smiles,  and  sudden  tears,  and  more  than  these, 
A  sure  perpetual  love.     Regard  her  as 
She  walks  along  the  vast  still  earth  ;  and  see  ! 
Before  her  flies  a  laughing  troop  of  joys, 
And  by  her  side  treads  old  experience, 
With  never-failing  voice  admonitory; 
The  gentle,  though  infallible,  kind  advice, 
The  watchful  care,  the  fine  regardfulness, 
Whatever  mates  with  what  we  hope  to  find, 
All  consummate  in  her — the  summer- queen. 

To  call  past  ages  better  than  what  now 
Man  is  enacting  on  life's  crowded  stage, 
Cannot  improve  our  worth  ;  and  for  the  world 
Blue  is  the  sky  as  ever,  and  the  stars 
Kindle  their  crystal  flames  at  soft-fallen  eve, 
With  the  same  purest  luster  that  the  east 
Worshiped.     The  river  gently  flows  through  fields 
Where  the  broad-leaved  corn  spreads  out  and  loads 
Its  ear  as  when  the  Indian  tilled  the  soil. 
The  dark  green  pine — green  in  the  winter's  cold — 
Still  whispers  meaning  emblems,  as  of  old; 
The  cricket  chirps,  and  the  sweet,  eager  birds 
In  the  sad  woods  crowd  their  thick  melodies; 
But  yet,  to  common  eyes,  life's  poetry 
Something  has  faded,  and  the  cause  of  this 
May  be  that  Man,  no  longer  at  the  shrine 
Of  Woman,  kneeling  with  true  reverence, 
In  spite  of  field,  wood,  river,  stars  and  sea, 
Goes  most  disconsolate.     A  babble  now, 
A  huge  and  wind-swelled  babble  fills  the  place 


180  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

Of  that  great  adoration  which  of  old 

Man  had  for  Woman.     In  these  days  no  more 

Is  love  the  pith  and  marrow  of  man's  fate. 

"  Thou  who  in  early  years  feelest  awake 
To  finest  impulses  from  Nature's  breath, 
And  in  thy  walk  nearest  such  sounds  of  truth 
As  on  the  common  ear  strike  without  heed, 
Beware  of  men  around  thee.     Men  are  foul 
With  avarice,  ambition,  and  deceit; 
The  worst  of  all,  ambition.     This  is  life 
Spent  in  a  feverish  chase  for  selfish  ends, 
Which  has  no  virtue  to  redeem  its  toil 
But  one  long,  stagnant  hope — to  raise  the  self. 
The  miser's  life  to  this  seems  sweet  and  fair  ; 
Better  to  pile  the  glittering  coin,  than  seek 
To  overtop  our  brothers  and  our  loves. 
Merit  in  this  ?     AVhere  lies  it,  though  thy  name 
Ring  over  distant  lands,  meeting  the  wind 
Even  on  the  extremest  verge  of  the  wide  world. 
Merit  in  this?     Better  be  hurled  abroad 
On  the  vast  whirling  tide,  than  in  thyself 
Concentred,  feed  upon  thy  own  applause. 
Thee  shall  the  good  man  yield  no  reverence ; 
But  while  the  idle,  dissolute  crowd  are  loud 
In  voice  to  send  thee  flattery,  shall  rejoice 
That  he  has  scaped  thy  fatal  doom,  and  known 
How  humble  faith  in  the  good  soul  of  things 
Provides  amplest  enjoyment.     0  my  brother, 
If  the  Past's  counsel  any  honor  claim 
From  thee,  go  read  the  history  of  those 
Who  a  like  path  have  trod,  and  see  a  fate 
Wretched  with  fears,  changing  like  leaves  at  noon, 
When  the  new  wind  sings  in  the  white  birch  wood. 
Learn  from  the  simple  child  the  rule  of  life, 
And  from  the  movements  of  the  unconscious  tribes 
Of  animal  nature,  those  that  bend  the  wing 
Or  cleave  the  azure  tide,  content  to  be, 
What  the  great  frame  provides — freedom  and  grace. 
Thee,  simple  child,  do  the  swift  winds  obey, 
And  the  white  water-falls,  with  their  bold  leaps, 


E8THETI0     ABGUMBNT.  L8J 

follow  thy  movements.     Tenderly  the  light 
Thee  watches,  girding  with  a  zone  of  radiance, 
And  all  the  swinging  herbs  love  thy  soft  steps." 

Take  also  these  exquisite  lines  of  Patmore's,  than 
which  I  know  nothing  more  richly  uniting  the  most 
delicate  fancy  with  most  substantial  Truth  of  the  sub- 
ject treated. 

u  When  I  hehold  the  reckless  brook 

That  casts  itself  from  some  tall  crag, 
Leaving  its  shade  along  the  rock, 

And  wavering  lower  like  a  flag  ; 
When  I  behold  the  skies  aloft 

Passing  the  pageantry  of  dreams ; 
The  cloud  whose  bosom  cygnet-soft 

A  couch    for    nuptial  Juno  seems  ; 
"When  I  behold  the  mountains  bright, 

The  shadowy  vales  with  feeding  herds, 
I  from  my  lyre  the  music  smite, 

Nor  want  for  justly  matching  words  : 
All  powers  of  the  sea  and  air, 

All  interests  of  hill  and  plain, 
I  so  can  sing  in  seasons  fair, 

That  who  hath  felt  may  feel  again. 
Elated  oft  by  such  free  songs, 

I  think  with  utterance  free  to  raise 
That  Hymn  for  which  the  whole  world  longs, 

A  worthy  Hymn  in  Woman's  praise. 
But  when  I  look  on  her  and  hope 

To  tell  with  joy  what  1  admire, 
My  thoughts  lie  cramped  in  narrow  scope, 

Or,  in  the  feeble  birth  expire. 
No  skilled  complexity  of  speech, 

No  heart-felt  phrase  of  tenderest  fall, 
No  likened  excellence  can  reach 

Her,  the  most  excellent  of  all, 
The  best  half  of  creation's  best, 

Its  heart  to  feel,  its  eye  to  see, 
The  crown  and  complex  of  the  rest — 

Its  aim  and  its  epitome. 


182  WOMAN    AND    HEE    EEA. 

Nay,  might  I  utter  my  conceit 

;Twere  after  all  a  vulgar  song, 
For  she's  so  simply,  subtly  sweet, 

My  deepest  rapture  dues  her  wrong  • 
My  thoughts,  that  singing,  lark-like  soar, 

Soaring  perceive  they've  still  misprized, 
And  still  forebode  her  beauty  more 

Than  can  perceived  be  or  surmised. 
Yet  is  it  now  my  chosen  task 

To  sing  her  worth  as  Maid  and  Wife, 
And  were  such  post  to  seek  I'd  ask 

To  live  her  Laureate  all  my  life. 

"  I  know  not  how  to  her  it  may  seem, 

Or  how  to  a  perfect  judging  eye, 
But  in  my  true  and  calm  esteem 

Man  misdeserves  his  sweet  ally : 
"Where  she  succeeds  with  cloudless  brow, 

In  common  and  in  holy  course, 
He  fails  in  spite  of  prayer  and  vow 

And  agonies  of  faith  and  force  : 
Or  if  his  suit  with  Heaven  prevails 

To  righteous  life,  his  virtuous  deeds 
Lack  beauty,  virtue's  badge  ;  she  fails 

More  graciously  than  he  succeeds. 
He's  never  young  nor  ripe  ;  she  grows 

More  infantine,  auroral,  mild, 
And  still  the  more  she  lives  and  knows, 

The  lovelier  she's  expressed  a  child. 
Say  that  she  wants  the  will  of  man 

To  conquer  fame,  not  checked  by  cross, 
Nor  moved  when  others  bless  or  ban ;  . 

She  wants  but  what  to  have  were  loss  j 
Or  say  she  holds  no  seals  of  power, 

But  humbly  lives  her  life  at  school  • 
Alas!  we  have  yet  to  hail  the  hour 

When  God  shall  clothe  the  best  with  rule. 
Or  say  she  wants  the  patient  brain 

To  track  shy  truth ;  her  facile  wit 
At  that  which  he  hunts  down  with  pain 


ESTHETIC     ARGUMENT.  183 

Flios  straight,  and  does  exactly  hit : 
Nay,  tho'  she  were  half  what  she  is, 

lie  twice  himself,  mere  love  alone 
Her  spedtal  crown,  as  truth  is  his, 

Gives  title  to  the  loftier  throne. 
Her  privilege,  not  imrotence, 

Exempts  her  from  the  work  of  man  ; 
Humbling  his  proper  excellence, 

Jeanne  d'Arc  led  war's  obstreperous  van. 
No  post  of  policy  or  pride 

Does  Heaven  from  her  holding  grudge; 
Miriam  and  Anna  prophesied, 

In  Israel  Deborah  was  judge; 
Countless  the  Christian  heroines 

Who've  blest  the  world  and  still  do  bless; 
The  praise  their  equal  courage  wins 

Counts  tenfold  through  their  tenderness; 
And  ah  !  sad  times  gone  by,  denied 

The  joyfullest  omen  ever  seen, 
The  full-grown  Lion's  power  and  pride 

Led  by  the  soft  hands  of  a  Queen. 

She  whom  the  heavenly  Books  declare 

The  Crown  and  Glory  of  the  man, 
Is  much  too  dearly  near  my  care 

For  me  with  sequent  thoughts  to  scan. 
From  order  and  the  Muse's  law 

What  wonder  if  I  fondly  err — 
The  wisest  man  that  ever  was, 

Became  a  fool  for  love  of  her." 

Note. — My  acquaintance  with  language  is,  unfortunately  for  the 
range  of  my  poetic  selections,  confined  to  my  native  tongue.  But 
along  with  all  the  world,  I  know  how  much  Beatrice  was  Dante's 
inspiration  ;  that  Laura  is  interior  to  Petrach's  fame  as  a  foun- 
tain to  its  stream  ;  that  Catarina  was  tho  light  of  CamoeVs  Life, 
and  projected  its  brightest  rays  to  us;  that  tho  Margaret  of 
Goethe's  Faust  became  a  redeeming  angel;  and  that  Homer  also 
drank  at  this  fount  of  artistic  expression,  and  though  ho  sung  of 
War,  Travels,  and  masculine  achievements  principally,  offered 
his  homage  to  the  nature,  lite,  and  person  of  Woman. 

"Not  only  are  his  Women  becomingly  draped,"'  says  a  writer 


184  WOMAN    AND    HEIi    ERA. 

in  the  Cosmopolitan  Art  Journal,  of  June,  1860,  "  but  they  are 
beautiful.  Every  mother's  daughter  of  them,  from  princess  to 
waiting-maid,  all  are  beautiful.  If  Homer  would  embody  an  idea 
of  deformity,  he  selects  some  luckless  representative  of  his  own 
gender ;  twists  him  with  fancy's  circean  wand,  into  ugliness  ;  then 
bids  him  stand  out  and  be  laughed  at.  The  gentle  sex  always 
have  gentle  treatment.  In  his  poetic  capacity,  with  his  thoughts 
and  feelings  in  a  fine  frenzy  surging,  Homer  could  not  conceive 
of  a  woman  as  otherwise  than  pleasing  in  shape  and  gesture. 
She  had  no  business  to  b©  ugly.  Her  destiny  was  to  mix  grace- 
fully, lovingly,  with  the  grosser  forms  of  humanity,  and  to  lift 
them  away  from  their  earthliness  with  a  power  as  subtile  and 
resistless  as  that  which  lifts  from  the  grass  the  dew  of  the 
morning. 

"  Homer's  specimens  of  female  depravity  are  comparatively 
few,  and  these  few  are  but  faintly  sketched,  as  if  done  with  a  cer- 
tain reluctance  and  disrelish  that  paralyzed  the  artist's  pencil. 
Homer  well  knew  how  to  draw  villains  of  every  shade  and  sex.  If 
the  villain  chanced  to  be  of  his  own  gender,  like  Thersites,  the 
deformed  blackguard,  the  drawing  was  done  with  a  will,  an  evi- 
dent relish,  and  a  masterly  vigor  in  the  handling  of  words.  But 
when  lovely  woman  stooped  to  meanness  and  wickedness,  Homer 
hated  to  publish  to  the  world  her  infamy.  His  hand  trembled 
amid  the  chords  of  his  lyre — 

•  And  back  recoiled,  he  knew  not  why, 
Even  at  the  sounds  himself  had  made.' 

He  hated  to  believe  it  possible  that  such  inborn  kindliness 
could  become  acrid  ;  that  such  divine  sweetness  could  be  changed 
to  the  bitter  poison  of  malice  and  hypocrisy.  He  keeps  insinuat- 
ing the  idea  of  foregone  temptations,  and  subsequent  repentings 
and  remorses,  to  soften  down  our  verdict  of  condemnation.  Like 
Burns,  he  would  have  charity  remember  not  alone  what  has  been 
yielded  to,  but  what  has  been  resisted.  He  is  careful  to  repre- 
sent the  vicious  and  criminal  of  his  own  sex  as  wholly  or  partly 
blamable  for  the  womanly  vices  and  crimes  whose  record  is 
drawn  like  threads  of  dark  through  the  bright  woof  of  his  song. 

"  It  must  be  claimed  that  Homer  magnified  his  epic  office,  and 
brought  luster  to  his  name,  by  his  chivalrous  defense  and  illustra- 
tion of  true  womanhood.  Every  man  who  is  himself  great,  will 
recognize  a  greatness  in  Woman.  Napoleon  recognized  it  by 
banishing  from  Paris  the  authoress  of  Corinne ;  Homer,  by  enthron- 
ing Arete,  the  wife  of  King  Alcinous,  in  the  hearts  of  her  sub- 
jects. Napoleon's  act  was  brutal  and  cowardly ;  Homer's  was 
worthy  of  himself." 

I  could  wish  to  extend  this  too  tempting  branch  of  my  argu- 
ment, but  must  not  even  stay  to  name  the  numerous  men  and 
women  whom  I  have  been  obliged  to  deny  hearing  here.  The 
few  extracts  I  have  indulged  myself  in  giving,  will  but  suffice  to 
suggest  the  great  stores  that  are  left  behind  for  some  fortunate 
woman  to  collect  and  bring  to  the  light. 


ESTHETIC    ARGUMENT.  1  35 


Literature  also  exhibits,  as  we  might  a  priori  sup- 
pose it  would,  a  like  allegiance  to  the-  truth,  herein. 
The  Ideal  Masculine  and  Feminine  bear  here  also  this 
relative  character.  The  hero  of  the  novelist  is  clothed 
with  a  more  powerful  interest  for  us,  and  has  a  pro- 
founder  appeal  to  the  heart,  when  he  embodies,  with 
the  perfection  of  masculine  attributes,  some  elements  of 
the  feminine.  Thus  the  magnanimity,  fineness  of 
feeling,  tenderness,  gentleness  to  inferiors,  delicate  con- 
sideration for  others,  the  still  fortitude  in  suffering,  the 
love  of  purity  in  word  and  deed,  which  make  the 
woman-nature,  are  felt  in  man  also  as  elements  of  exalt- 
ation and  real  greatness,  however  humble  the  estate 
of  their  possessor.  The  feminine-masculine  charac- 
ter in  short,  is  the  highest  character  of  man,  as  the 
organization  of  that  type  is  the  highest  physique  which 
the  masculine  exhibits. 

But  the  heroine  must  be  all  womanly.  -Any  spark 
of  the  masculine  nature  manifest  in  her  as  such,  sug- 
gestive of  what  is  manly,  is  felt  instantly  to  be  a  for- 
eign and  degenerating  element,  whose  introduction  we 
can  never  quite  forgive  to  her  creator.  We  ask  neither 
the  intellect,  the  will,  nor  the  courage  of  man,  in  Wo- 
man ;  for  of  each  she  has  her  own  kind,  which  must  be 
higher  than  his,  or  we  should  as  instinctively  delight 
to  find  his  in  her  as  we  do  to  find  hers  in  him.  The 
man  must  not  lack  his  own ;  but  if  hers  be  added 
thereto,  he  is  the  better  for  it — more  perfectly  man. 
She  must  not  lack  her  own  ;  but  the  addition  of  his, 
does  not  improve  ker — it  lessens  instead  of  augmenting 
her  womanhood.     The  masculine  rises  to  approach  the 


feminine  type ;  the  feminine  descends  in  approaching  the 


186  WOMAN   AND    HER   ERA. 

masculine.  This  is  practically  well  illustrated  in  the 
differences  between  inferior  and  exalted  social  condi- 
tions. In  the  former,  women  are  masculine ;  in  the 
latter,  men  partake  of  the  feminine — are  gentlemen — 
become  refined,  courteous,  and  more  delicate  in  organi- 
zation, perception,  and  feeling.  In  other  words,  we 
see  that  Society  has  its  development  in  the  approxima- 
tion of  the  masculine  to  the  feminine  type,  and  suffers 
degeneracy  in  the  reverse  movement.  Finally,  the 
artists*  themselves,  are  often  men  of  a  strong  feminine 
type.  Raphael  looked  in  his  youth,  like  a  beautiful 
and  thoughtful  maiden  ;  and  he  bore  strong  marks  of 
that  resemblance  .after  the  superficial  signs  of  mascu- 
linity were  developed  in  his  face.  Spenser  has  a  head 
and  face  that  remind  one  of  an  earnest,  affectionate 
mother.  The  portraits  of  Chaucer,  though  exhibiting 
the  strongly  marked  features  of  a  man,  show  also  a 
purity  and  elevation  of  expression  worthy  a  gifted  and 
good  woman.  You  feel,  beside,  an  utter  lack  of  the 
shrewdness,  worldliness,  and  capacity  for  mere  passion, 
of  any  sort,  that  characterize  the  masculine  counte- 
nance. The  same  is  true  of  Shelley  and  Wordsworth 
in  an  eminent  degree.  Also,  of  Sidney,  Herbert, 
Cowper,  Keats,  White,  and  many  others,  both  of  early 
and  later  times,  whose  portraits,  but  for  the  hair  and 
beard,  might  almost  be  mistaken  for  those  of  women. 
Tennyson  has  beauty  enough,  (if  the  engravings  of  him 


*  I  leave  the  mention  of  Music  here  for  a  reason  which  all 
will  acknowledge  as  good  and  valid — that  I  know  nothing  of  it, 
and  little  of  its  masters.  With  a  deep  feeling  for  the  Art,  which 
I  esteem  the  divinest  of  human  expressions,  I  know  even  less  of  it 
than  of  those  which  I  have  felt  constrained  to  refer  to — an  ex- 
cuse for  silence  touching  it,  than  which,  no  better  I  am  sure  could 
be  demanded. 


ESTHETIC   ABGTJMENT.  187 

are  to  be  trusted),  to  be  sung  as  lie  sings  some  of  his 
ideal  women.  And  though  it  partakes  of  the  sensuous 
more  than  we  see  in  the  highest  order  of  women,  and 
is  a  shade  less  reverent  than  complacent,  such  as  it  is, 
it  would  dower  more  than  one  of  our  sex  for  immortal 
song. 

I  might  go  on  thus  indefinitely,  with  the  names  of 
contemporary  and  departed  artists,  but  if  any  one 
doubts  the  truth  of  my  assertion,  let  him  illustrate  it 
to  his  own  conviction,  by  comparing  the  heads  of 
Martin  Luther,  Henry  VIII.,  Dean  Swift,  Walpole, 
Wellington,  Bonaparte — the  gladiators — the  Nimrods 
— the  pleasure-lovers,  whether  in  chase,  banquet,  or 
chamber,  with  those  I  have  named,  and  others  of  like 
nature,  and  it  will  be  seen,  as  Spenser  says,  that : 
" Every  Spirit  as  it  is  most  pure, 

And  hath  .in  it  the  more  of  heavenly  light, 

80  it  the  fairer  Body  doth  procure 

To  habit  in. 

For  of  the  Soul  the  Body  form  doth  take  : 

For  Soul  is  form,  and  doth  the  Body  make." 


CHAPTER    III. 
HISTORIC    ARGUMENT. 

History  does  little  toward  defining  "Woman  for  us,  in 
any  respect.  It  celebrates,  rather  coldly,  a  few  good 
women ;  but  a  larger  number  who  are  of  the  opposite 
character.  Having  to  do  almost  purely  with  externals, 
Man  is  its  hero  :  whatever  Woman  may  do,  or  omit,  it 
reserves  its  enthusiasm  for  him.  And  rightly  enough, 
since  it  is  he  who  makes  the  material  for  history.  Its 
origin  is  in  his  passions  ;  its  growth  in  his  intellect, 
acquisitive  loves,  and  inventive  powers  of  every  sort. 
These  change  the  face  of  society,  disturb  the  equilibrium 
of  possession,  develop  the  resources  of  human  life — both 
subjective  and  objective — incite  man  to  his  great  deeds 
and  his  little  ones,  and  therein  urge  the  perception, 
the  memory,  and  the  pen  of  the  historian,  to  their 
work.  I  say  perception  and  memory,  because,  as  yet, 
other  capacities  have  but  a  subordinate  part  in  this 
work. 

Now  in  all  these  movements,  Woman  in  the  external, 
manifest  sense,  is  so  seldom  a  principal,  that  she  may 
be  said  to  be  generally  an  incident,  as  are  the  acts  and 
speech  of  a  little  child  in  the  presence  of  the  parents 
and  guest,  interrupting  the  stream  of  their  earnest  talk. 
They  descend  from  the  graver  themes,  at  certain 
moments,  to  pay  a  passing  attention  to  these  ;  the  con- 


HISTORIC   ARGUMENT.  ISO 

descension  charming  alike  themselves  and  its  object,  if 
not  too  often  demanded  or  too  much  prolonged. 

Woman  is  a  child  in  the  presence  of  man  and  his 
spectator,  History,  when  they  meet.  The  latter  comes 
to  him,  that  she  may  record, not  his  motives  and  aims 
so  much  as  the  acts  which  are  the  shows  and  appear- 
ances of  them.  The  acts  are  his,  and  it  is  of  infinitely 
small  consequence,  apparently,  so  far  as  they  two  can 
judge,  that  Woman  has  been  at  the  root  of  them.  One 
does  not  go  from  the  friend's  house  and  ask  attention 
to  what  the  child  has  said,  but  rather  to  the  thoughts 
and  speech  of  the  grown  persons  ;  and  so  History  holds 
her  sessions  with,  and  reports  man  ;  because  to  both,  as 
yet,  the  spiritual  and  afTectional  motives  which  control 
the  nature  of  Woman  are  weaklings — babes — whose 
place  is  in  the  nursery  of  human  action,  and  whose 
function  out  of  it  is  silence,  except  when  patronized  by 
them  into  brief  and  passing  expression. 

For  these  reasons  History  remains  purely  inductive, 
grossly  empirical,  indeed,  to  this  day.  Its  predications 
are  only  the  most  general  and  irresistible.  It  traverses 
the  great  currents  of  human  motive  continually,  in 
seeking  to  account  for  actions ;  or  it  sets  them  down 
without  accounting  for  them,  as  a  merchant  makes  his 
invoice,  or  a  librarian  his  catalogue.  It  sees  no  law,  or 
only  broken,  detached  fragments  thereof ;  but  its  dis- 
tracted eye  is  fastened  to  the  confused,  rolling,  tum- 
bling sea  of  facts.  Into  this  it  clutches  desperately, 
seizing  when  it  can,  those  of  largest  proportions,  and 
letting  the  lesser  c;o.  It  deduces  nothing  from  Truth, 
the  great  law  and  force  of  life ;  but  spends  its 
strength  in  endeavoring  to  induce  certain  conclusions 
from  the  Babel-voices  of  its  many-tongued  facts.  So 
that  wThat  should  be  an  analvsis  of  human  conduct,  is 


190  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA, 

only  its  record,  and  often  so  imperfect,  even  in  that 
character,  that  precious  time  is  sadly  wasted  in  its  study. 

Mr.  Buckle,  who  has  made  the  first  footmarks  in  the 
last  and  highest  field  of  the  masculine  historic  era,  and 
who  is,  in  many  respects,  admirably  gifted  for  carrying 
it  well  forward  for  his  successors,  seems,  in  some  others, 
to  be  painfully  insufficient  for  his  work.  With  abund- 
ant intellectual  power  and  acuteness  of  vision,  the 
spiritual  element  is  so  very  latent  in  him  that  he  does 
not  trust  even  the  existence  of  its  universal  root — the 
Consciousness.  Thus  some  of  the  noblest,  and,  at  the 
same  time,  most  assured  facts  of  human  experience,  are 
rejected  by  him,  or  read  as  mere  superstitions  and 
bigotries.  lie  is  so  severely  masculine  in  mind,  that  he 
doubts,  nay,  he  disbelieves  the  very  existence  of  the 
distinguishing  feminine  attribute — the  spiritual  nature. 
He  has  not  eyes  to  see  it.  With  a  singularly  clear  head 
for  the  recognition  of  feminine  and  masculine  in  the 
intellectual  kingdom,  he  fails  so  fatally  to  trace  the  line 
of  distinction  in  its  higher  Teachings,  that  the  work  which 
his  great  power  and  prodigious  labor  would  have  made 
immortal,  might  perish  without  any  fatal  loss  of  Truth. 
He  rather  points  the  way  we  may  expect  Truth  to 
come,  than  introduces  us  to  the  sacred  presence.  He 
doubts  her  noblest  aspects :  mistakes  them  for  a  mask 
of  fanaticism  ;  sets  down  her  finest  edicts  as  supersti- 
tions, and  even  fiouts,  in  scholarly  style,  some  of  her 
plainest  intentions.  Denying  all  other  elements  of 
progress  in  mankind,  save  the  intellect,  (a  denial  which 
could  scarce  come  from  any  woman,  of  much  or  little 
ability),  he  is  reduced  to  the  necessity  of  setting  aside 
laws  of  Nature,  which  the  average  laborer  feels  in  his 
consciousness,  if  he  does  not  understand  in  his  reason. 

If  he  did  not  employ  the  term  man  generically,  one 


HISTORIC   ARGUMENT.  191 

would  feel  less  dissent  from  the  statement  of  his  pre- 
mises.  For  man,  in  the  super-physical,  representing 
the  intellect,  as  distinguished  from  the  spiritual,  ]\ir. 
Buckle  finds  in  the  history  of  Progress,  so  far  as  he 
(man)  has  carried  it,  but  slender  support  for  any  nobler 
views.  Human  progress  has  been,  in  the  main,  unde- 
niably intellectual  and  material,  rather  than  spiritual ; 
as  it  needs  must  be  while  it  remains  so  exclusively  in 
masculine  hands.  "  That  which  is  born  of  the  flesh  is 
flesh."  Yet  since  proof  of  spiritual  progress,  and  of  its 
dcarness  to  the  soul,  is  found  in  the  successive  origins 
of  religious  systems  ;  in  the  continually-recurring  bat- 
tles for  newly-discovered  truths  ;  and,  most  of  all,  in 
the  growung  love  for  light,  progress,  and  knowledge  of 
things  spiritual,  and  in  the  unflinching  devotion  with 
which  men  of  moderate  intellect  have,  in  all  times, 
sacrificed  themselves  to  the  preservation  of  systems  and 
opinions  which  they  were  less  able  to  appreciate  than 
to  love,  one  cannot  but  wonder  over  Mr.  Buckle's  pages. 

Intellect  is  never  intense  or  devoted ;  it  is  only 
tenacious.  It  acquires  with  pleasure,  acquisition  being 
action,  and  all  action  delight ;  but  it  is  itself  indifferent 
whether  what  it  gets  be  diffused  or  retained.  Con- 
joined with  noble  emotions,  it  may  be  warmed  into 
near  relation  and  similitude  to  their  own  life-giving 
power;  or,  with  almost  equal  facility,  it  may  become 
the  instrument  and  minister  of  passions,  which  its 
devices  help  to  consume  and  reduce,  along  with  itself, 
to  ashes. 

Intellect  has  no  moral  character.  It  only  leans 
with  a  neighborly  courtesy,  rather  this  than  the  oppo- 
site way.  It  never  led  a  martyr  to  the  pile.  It  finds 
Truths,  Ideas — the  instruments  of  Progress — but  its 
office  may  almost  be  said  to  end  with  the  finding.      It 


192  WOMAN    AXD    HER    ERA. 

cares  little  for  putting  them  to  their  noblest,  divinest 
uses.  Something  else  in  the  soul  must  ask  its  co-opera- 
tion, that  they  may  be  warmed  and  molded  into 
artistic  proportions — refined  and  fitted  for  their  highest 
service — raised  to  the  heart-worship  which  makes  pain 
and  death  for  them  the  joy  of  individuals  and  of  gener- 
ations, if  it  be  only  so  that  they  can  be  rescued  from 
oblivion,  or  the  impossible  extinction  which  seems  to 
threaten  them. 

Without  intellect,  it  is  certain  there  could  be  no 
progress,  because  no  relation  between  Truths  and  the 
human  spirit.  The  ox  would  be  little  more  isolated 
from  them,  though  dwelling  in  their  midst,  than  man. 
But  intellect  is  not  the  goal  of  Truth :  it  is  only  her 
road  to  the  Spirit — the  medium  through  which  the  grand 
conjunction  is  effected.  The  power  of  discovery  with 
which  it  is  endowed  is  that  of  the  squirrel  to  find  and 
lay  up  its  winter  stores,  without  the  apparatus  of  mas- 
tication and  digestion  whereby  they  could  be  assimi- 
lated and  converted  into  materials  of  growth.  Truth 
must  be  loved — which  is  a  step  beyond  finding  her — 
if  we  woidd  have  service  of  her.  Ideas,  how  clearly 
soever  seen,  must  have  heart-homage  before  they  can 
lay  hold  of  the  life,  and  stamp  upon  it  the  characters  of 
nobler  use. 

How  many  vital  truths  lie  torpid  now  in  the  midst 
of  our  keenest  strifes,  doing  the  world  the  smallest 
measure  of  service,  because  the  heart-life  of  the  socie- 
ties knowing  them  is  too  cold,  too  debased  with  selfish- 
ness, to  receive  them.  Wherefore,  avenging  this 
neglect,  they  fall  into  torpor  among  us,  as  indifferent 
to  us  as  we  to  them,  till  the  day  when  our  human  hope 
and  need  shall  demand  their  risen,  acting,  and  moving 
presence.     The  truest  grandeur  of  life  is  in  the  union, 


HISTORIC   ARGUMENT.  193 

in  the  same  soul,  of  the  power  to  discover  Truth,  with 
the  sensibility  to  love  it  supremely,  as  the  means  of 
human  development  and  happiness.  For  this  is  the 
divinest  use  to  which  God,  its  Author,  can  put  it  in 
our  world,  and  we  so  far  identify  ourselves  with  Him 
as  we  work  lovingly  in  His  ways,  to  His  ends. 
But  the  love  of  Truth  is  more  exalting  than  the  knowl- 
edge of  it  when  they  are  separated.  Who  is  colder  or 
more  inert  than  the  man  gifted  with  intellect  but 
lacking  love?  He  dwells  in  a  chilling  mist  of  specula- 
tion, or  an  atmosphere  through  which  gleam  the  elec- 
tric lights  of  discovery.  But  no  genial  sunshine, 
expanding  and  nourishing  that  whereon  it  falls,  sur- 
rounds him.  What  matter  to  him,  if  he  have  his 
delights,  that  the  millions  suffer  or  perish — that  his 
whole  generation  goes  astray,  wanting  light,  which  he, 
perchance,  could  give  it?  He  loves  his  inquiries  and 
speculations  more  than  human  happiness.  He  delights 
in  the  acquisition  of  Truth,  but  is  indifferent  to  its 
diffusion,  and  wonders  at  the  weak  enthusiasm  of  some 
admirer  to  whom  he  opens  his  treasury,  and  who,  with 
a  tithe  of  his  intellect,  but  a  hundred-fold  his  love, 
becomes  instantly  concerned  that  the  hoard  he  beholds 
shall  be  scattered  abroad,  to  ease  the  aching  hearts  and 
lift  the  too  heavy  burthens.  This  man  is  a  re-former 
because  he  is  a  lover,  and  would  lovingly  help  to 
re-make  what  is  imperfect.  Put  him  in  possession  here, 
and  forthwith  there  commences  agitation,  conflict — a 
double-rooted  phenomenon — which  springs  from  the 
truths  that  were  cold  till  he  found  them,  and  from  the 
love  in  his  soul  which  was  helpless  till  they  came  to  it. 
I  repeat  that  since  such  is  the  relation  between  the 
Spirit  and  Truth,  one  cannot  refuse  to  wonder  at  Mr. 
Buckle's  p<  >sition  and  statements.  For  the  service  he  has 
9 


194:  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

clone,  I  am,  no  less  than  any  one  of  his  thousands  of 
readers,  profoundly  grateful.*  If  it  be  true,  as  has 
been  said,  that  the  past  Historic  Period  culminates  in 
him,  it  is  no  less  true  that  he  faces  so  firmly  toward 
the  Coming  One  that  he  may  be  hailed  as  its  pioneer. 
Beholding  the  Old  with  a  clear  view  of  its  defects,  he 
partly  also  sees  the  New ;  its  prominent  features,  if  not 
its  ultimate  tendency.  And  he  has  so  far  released  its 
sub-strata,  that  we  shall,  not  long  hence,  see  his  labor 
appropriated  by  some  more  expert  and  large-souled 
builder,  who,  embracing  the  Spiritual  with  the  Intel- 
lectual, will  give  his   grand   generalizations  a   place 


*  It  is  mournful  that  we  have  already  to  speak  of  this  great 
mind  and  its  work  as  belonging  to  the  past.  These  pages  were 
written  between  the  appearance,  in  this  country,  of  the  first  and 
second  volumes  of  "An  Introduction  to  a  History  of  Civilization 
in  England  ;"  and  then  wre  fondly  hoped,  not  only  for  much  more 
work  at  the  writer's  hands,  but  for  a  beautiful  growth,  through 
it,  into  the  higher  fields  of  Truth.  Even  the  few  critical  remarks, 
thrown  out  here  and  elsewhere  in  this  volume,  seem,  in  view  of 
the  loss  we  have  sustained  in  that  untimely  death,  to  be  spoken 
almost  in  an  uncordial  spirit.  Death  does  not,  indeed,  change 
the  character  of  Truth  or  Error  in  any  man's  work,  but  it 
inclines  us  to  prize  more  sacredly,  purely,  and  generously,  what 
he  leaves  us,  and  in  our  criticisms  to  discriminate  more  carefully 
and  tenderly  between  the  noble  purpose,  if  such  it  was,  and  the 
false  result.  I  dissent  as  broadly  now  from  Mr.  B.'s  views  as 
four  years  ago ;  but  my  heart  would  deal  more  gently  with  his 
errors,  since  he  has  passed  beyond  the  stage  where  they  might 
have  been  rectified  in  the  same  manner  as  they  were  uttered.  It 
is  most  comforting  to  know  that,  as  he  advanced  in  his  work  and 
drew  nearer  the  close  of  his  earthly  career,  he  inclined  more  and 
more  to  look  spirit-ward  for  the  springs  of  human  action,  and  the 
sources  of  human  power.  Another  kingdom  of  motive,  warmer 
than  the  intellectual,  and  lying  above  it,  began  to  open  before  his 
lengthening  vision,  which  he  has  entered  into  possession  of, 
making  that  inestimable  gain  through  our  inestimable  loss. 


HISTOEIC    ARGUMENT.  195 

worthy  their  vastness  and  substance,  at  the  foundation 
of  a  plan  of  History,  of  fairer  proportions  and  truer 
elements  than  the  world  has  yet  seen. 

In  that  plan,  Woman,  as  the  representative  and 
embodiment  of  the  interior,  spiritual  forces,  will  have 
her  place.  She  will  bring  to  light  its  depths  of  motive  ; 
she  will  explore  its  loftiest  pinnacles  of  aspiration. 
She  will,  of  herself,  take  her  position,  sustain  her  own 
part,  and  diffuse  herself,  as  an  elevating,  purifying 
power,  through  aU,  which  so,  will  be  made  worthy  and 
fit  for  her  presence. 

I  shall  introduce  but  few  women  who  appear  in 
History,  as  well  for  lack  of  room  as  for  the  reasons 
already  hinted  at,  that  it  is  for  the  most  part  a  succes- 
sion of  shams  and  shows,  or  of  appearances,  that  cause 
us  to  forget  the  realities  which  they  as  often  misrepre- 
sent as  represent ;  .and  because,  springing  from  the 
egotistic  intellect  of  man,  it  utters  no  pure  human 
sentiment  of  Woman,  such  as  we  have  found  in  xVrt 
and  Religion,  but  only  acknowledges  her  when  com- 
pelled to  by  the  accident  of  birth,  or  rough  adventure, 
or  by  revolution,  which,  breaking  up  the  order  of 
society,  introduces  her  to  unusual  places.  And,  more- 
over, my  subject  has  such  wealth  of  resource,  that  I 
have  need  but  to  hint  at  rather  than  exhaust  any  one 
of  them. 

My  object,  therefore,  will  be,  not  to  show  what 
women  have  been  celebrated,  (since  even  that,  scanty 
as  is  the  record,  would  require  volumes  instead  of  a 
few  pages),  so  much  as  that  some  have  been  ;  and  that 
History,  cold  as  it  is  toward  them,  and  often  suspicious, 
treating  them  in  the  spirit  of  a  detective  policeman, 
by  construing  into  evidence  of  wrong  or  guilt,  whatever 
it  cannot  u   derstand  in  their  conduct,  has  nevertheless 


196  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

more  or  less  recognized  this  truth  of  them,  that  in  times 
of  great  emergency,  and  in  seasons  that  have  tried  souls 
most  deeply,  they  have  often  contrasted  nobly  with 
men,  and  still  more  frequently  excelled  them  in  the 
calmness  which  evinces  courage,  the  fortitude  which 
proves  devotion,  either  to  persons  or  to  great  causes, 
(when  they  have,  by  accident,  become  acquainted  with 
such),  and  in  the  self-abnegation  which  testifies  the 
greatest  love. 

The  Eleventh  Century  produced  the  woman  whom 
I  shall  name  first,  as  illustrating  a  higher  generosity,  a 
nobler  delicacy,  and  a  more  intense  love  in  her  sex, 
than  we  look  for  or  find  in  man.  This  woman,  Heloise, 
beloved  by  and  loving  a  man  who  was  a  candidate  for 
honors  in  the  Papal  Church,  gave  all  to  him,  and 
refused  to  take  from  him  anything  that  would  have 
constituted  a  protection  for  her  against  the  sneers  of 
enemies,  the  persecutions  of  her  family,  and  the  scorn 
of  the  world,  because  the  only  protection  he  could  give 
her  was  marriage,  which  could  save  her  but  by  ruining 
him.  But  I  will  let  Mr.  Lewes  tell  the  story  in  his 
brief  way : 

"  His  career,  at  this  period,  was  brilliant.  His 
reputation  had  risen  above  that  of  every  living  man. 
His  eloquence  and  subtilty  charmed  hundreds  of 
serious  students,  who  thronged  beneath  the  shadows  of 
the  Cathedral,  in  ceaseless  disputation,  thinking  more  of 
success  in  disputes  than  of  the  truths  involved.  M. 
Guizot  estimates  these  students  at  not  less  than  five 
thousand — of  course  not  all  at  the  same  time.  Amidst 
those  crowds,  Abelard  might  be  seen  moving,  with 
imposing  haughtiness  of  carriage,  not  without  the  care- 
less indolence  which  success  had  given  ;  handsome, 
manly,  gallant-looking,  the  object  of  incessant  admira- 
tion. His  songs  were  sung  in  the  streets,  his  arguments 
were  repeated  in  cloisters.    The  multitude  reverentially 


HISTOKIC    AEG  L  MEN  T. 


197 


made  way  for  liim,  as  he  passed  ;  and  from  behind 
their  window-curtains  peeped  the  curious  eyes  of 
women.    His  name  was  carried  to  every  city  in  Europe. 

The  Pope  sent  hearers  to  him.  lie  reigned,  and  he 
reigned  alone. 

"It  was  at  this  period  that  the  charms  and  helpless 
position  of  Heloise  attracted  his  vanity  and  selfishness. 
He  resolved  to  seduce  her ;  resolved  it,  as  he  confesses, 
after  mature  deliberation.  He  thought  she  would  be 
an  easy  victim  ;  and  he,  who  had  lived  in  abhorrence 
of  libertinage — scortorum  hum  imditia/m  st  mper  dbhor- 
rebam — felt  that  he  had  now  attained  such  a  position 
that  he  might  indulge  himself  with  impunity.  We  are 
not  here  attributing  hypothetic  scoundrelism  to  Abel- 
ard ;  we  are  but  repeating  his  own  statements.  k  I 
thought,  too,'  he  adds,  '  that  I  should  the  more  easily 
gain  the  girl's  consent,  knowing,  as  I  did,  to  how  great 
a  degree  she  both  possessed  learning  and  loved  it.'  He 
tells  us  how  he  '  sought  an  opportunity  of  bringing  her 
into  familiar  and  daily  intercourse  with  me,  and  so 
drawing  her  the  more  easily  to  consent  to  my  wishes. 
With  this  view,  I  made  a  proposal  to  her  uncle,  through 
certain  of  his  friends,  that  he  should  receive  me  as  an 
inmate  of  his  house,  which  was  very  near  to  my  school, 
on  whatever  terms  of  remuneration  he  chose;  alleg- 
ing, as  my  reason,  that  I  found  the  care  of  a  household 
an  impediment  to  study,  and  its  expense  too  burden- 
some.' The  uncle,  Fulbert,  was  prompted  by  avarice, 
and  the  prospect  of  gaining  instruction  tor  his  niece, 
to  consent.  He  committed  her  entirely  to  Abelard's 
charge,  '  in  order  that  whenever  I  should  be  at  leisure 
from  the  school,  whether  by  day  or  by  night,  I  might 
take  the  trouble  of  instructing  her;  and  should  I  find 
her  negligent,  use  forcible  compulsion.  Hereupon  I 
wondered  at  the  man's  excessive  simplicity,  with  no  less 
amazement  than  if  I  had  beheld  him  intrust  a  lamb  to 
the  care  of  a  famishing  wolf;  for  in  thus  placing  the 
girl  in  my  hands  for  me  not  only  to  teach,  but  to  use 
forcible  coercion,  what  did  he  do  but  give  full  liberty 
to  my  desires,  and  offer  the  opportunity,  even  had  it 


198  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

not  been  sought,  seeing  that,  should  enticement  fail,  I 
might  use  threats  and  stripes  in  order  to  subdue  her?' 

"  The  crude  brutality  of  this  confession  would  induce 
us  to  suppose  it  was  a  specimen  of  that  strange  illusion 
which  often  makes  reflective  and  analytic  minds 
believe  that  their  enthusiasms  and  passions  were  calcu- 
lations, had  we  not  sufficient  evidence,  throughout 
Abelard's  life,  of  his.  intense  selfishness  and  voracious 
vanity.  Whatever  the  motive,  the  incident  is  curious; 
history  has  no  other  such  example  of  passionate  devo- 
tion filling  the  mind  of  a  woman  for  a  dialectician.  It 
was  dialectics  he  taught  her,  since  he  could  teach  her 
nothing  else.  She  was  a  much  better  scholar  than  he  ; 
in  many  respects  better  read.  She  was  perfect  mis- 
tress of  Latin,  and  knew  enough  Greek  and  Hebrew  to 
form  the  basis  of  her  future  proficiency.  He  knew 
nothing  of  Greek  or  Hebrew,  although  all  his  biogra- 
phers, except  M.  Remusat,  assume  that  he  knew  them 
both  ;  M.  Michelet  even  asserting  that  he  was  the  only 
man  who  did  then  know  them.  In  the  study  of  arid 
dialectics,  then,  must  we  imagine  Abelard  and  Heloise 
thrown  ;  and,  in  the  daily  communion  of  their  minds, 
passion  ripened,  steeped  in  that  vague,  dream-like,  but 
intense  delight,  produced  by  the  contact  of  great  intel- 
ligences; and  thus,  as  the  Spanish  translator  of  her 
letters  says, '  Buscando  siempre  con  pretexto  del  estadio 
/'as-  parages  mas  retirados ' — they  sought  in  the  still 
air  and  countenance  of  delightful  studies  a  solitude 
more  exquisite  than  any  society.  '  The  books  were  open 
before  us,'  says  Abelard,  '  but  we  talked  more  of  love 
than  philosophy,  and  kisses  were  more  frequent  than 
sentences.' 

"  In  spite  of  the  prudential  necessity  of  keeping 
this  intrigue  secret,  Abelard's  truly  French  vanity 
overcame  his  prudence.  He  had  written  love-songs  to 
Heloise ;  and,  with  the  egotism  of  a  bad  poet  and 
indelicate  lover,  he  was  anxious  for  these  songs  to  be 
read  by  other  eyes  besides  those  for  whom  they  were 
composed;  anxious  that  other  men  should  know  his 
conquest.  His  songs  were  soon  bandied  about  the 
streets.     All  Paris  was  in  the  secret  of  his  intrigue. 


HISTORIC    AlK-l'MENT.  199 

That  which  a  delicate  lover,  out  of  delicacy,  and  a 
sensible  lover,  out  of  prudence,  would  have  hidden 
from  the  world,  this  coxcomb  suffered  to  be  profaned 
by  being  bawled  from  idle  and  indifferent  mouths. 

k>  At  length  even  Fulbert  became  aware  of  what 
was  passing  under  his  roof.  A  separation  took  place; 
but  the  lovers  continued  to  meet  in  secret.  Iieloise 
soon  found  herself  pregnant,  and  Abelard  arranged  for 
her  an  escape  to  Brittany,  where  she  resided  with  his 
sister  and  gave  birth  to  a  son.  When  Fulbert  heard 
of  her  flight,  he  was  frantic  with  rage.  Abelard  came 
cringing  to  him,  imploring  pardon,  recalling  to  him  how 
the  greatest  men  had  been  cast  down  by  women, 
accused  himself  of  treachery,  and  offered  the  repara- 
tion of  marriage  provided  it  were  kept  secret ;  because 
his  marriage,  if  made  known,  would  be  an  obstacle  to 
his  rising  in  the  Church,  and  the  miter  already  glim- 
mered before  his  ambitious  eyes.  Fulbert  consented. 
But  Heloise,  with  womanly  self-abnegation,  would  not 
consent.  She  would  not  rob  the  world  of  its  greatest 
luminary.  '  I  should  hate  this  marriage,'  she  exclaimed, 
'  because  it  would  be  an  opprobrium  and  a  calamity.' 
She  recalled  to  Abelard  various  passages  in  Scripture 
and  ancient  writers,  in  which  wives  are  accursed; 
pointing  out  to  him  how  impossible  it  would  be  for 
him  to  consecrate  himself  to  philosophy  unless  he  were 
free  ;  how  could  he  study  amid  the  noises  of  children 
and  domestic  troubles  of  a  household?  how  much 
more  honorable  it  would  be  for  her  to  sacrifice  herself 
to  him  !  She  would  be  his  concubine.  The  more  she 
humiliated  herself  for  him,  the  greater  would  be  her 
claims  upon  his  love  ;  and  thus  she  would  be  no  obstacle 
to  his  advancement,  no  impediment  to  the  free  devel- 
opment of  his  genius. 

" '  I  call  to  God  to  witness,'  she  wrote,  many  years 
afterwards,  '  that  if  Augustus,  the  Emperor  of  the 
world,  had  deemed  me  worthy  of  his  hand,  and  would 
have  given  me  the  universe  for  a  throne,  the  name  of 
your  concubine  would  have  been  more  glorious  to  me 
than  that  of  his  empress ;  carius  mihi  et  dignius 
videretur  tua  did  meretrix  quam  illius  imperatrix.'* 


200  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

"  Gladly  would  Abelard  have  profited  by  this 
sublime  passion ;  but  lie  was  a  coward,  and  his  heart 
trembled  before  Fulbert.  He  therefore  endeavorod  to 
answer  her  arguments  ;  and  she,  tin  ding  that  his  resolu- 
tion was  fixed,  a  resolution  which  he  very  characteris- 
tically calls  a  bit  of  stupidity,  meam  stubtitiam — burst 
into  tears,  and  consented  to  the  marriage,  which  was 
performed  with  all  secrecy.  Fulbert  and  his  servants, 
however,  in  violation  of  their  oath,  divulged  the  secret. 
Whereupon  Heloise  boldly  denied  that  she  was  mar- 
ried. The  scandal  became  great ;  but  she  persisted  in 
her  denials,  and  Fulbert  drove  her  from  the  house  with 
reproaches.  Abelard  removed  her  to  the  nunnery  of 
Argenteuil,  where  she  assumed  the  monastic  dress, 
though  without  taking  the  vail.  Abelard  furtively 
visited  her.  Meanwhile  Fulbert's  suspicions  were 
roused,  lest  this  seclusion  in  the  nunnery  should  be  but 
the  first  step  to  her  taking  the  vail,  and  so  ridding 
Abelard  of  all  impediment.  Those  were  violent  and 
brutal  times,  but  the  vengeance  of  Fulbert  startled  even 
the  Paris  of  those  days  with  horror.  With  his  friends 
and  accomplices,  he  surprised  Abelard  sleeping,  and 
there  inflicted  that  atrocious  mutilation,  which  Qrigen 
in  a  moment  of  religious  frenzy  inflicted  on  himself. 

"In  shame  and  anguish,  Abelard  sought  the  refuge 
of  a  cloister.  He  became  a  monk.  But  the  intense 
selfishness  of  the  man  would  not  permit  him  to  renounce 
the  world  without  also  forcing  Heloise  to  renounce  \t. 
Obedient  to  his  commands,  she  took  the  vail ;  thus  once 
again  sacrificing  herself  to  him  whom  she  had  accepted 
as  a  husband  with  unselfish  regret,  and  whom  she 
abandoned  in  trembling,  to  devote  herself  henceforth 
without  hope,  without  faith,  without  love,  to  her  divine 
husband. 

"  The  gates  of  the  convent  closed  forever  on  that 
noble-  woman  whose  story  continues  one  of  pure  hero- 
ism to  the  last ;  but  we  cannot  pause  to  narrate  it  here. 
With  her  disappearance,  the  great  interest  in  Abelard 
disappears ;  we  shall  not  therefore  detail  the  various 
episodes  of  his  subsequent  career,  taken  up  for  the  most 
part  with  quarrels — first  with  the  monks,  whose  disso- 


HISTORIC   ARGUMENT.  201 

lateness  lie  reproved,  next  with  the  theologians,  whose 
hatred  he  roused  by  the  'heresy'  of  reasoning.  He 
was  condemned  publicly  to  retract;  he  was  persecuted 
as  a  heretic;  he  had  ventured  to  introduce  Rational- 
ism, or  the  explanation  of  the  dogmas  of  Faith  by 
Reason,  and  he  suffered,  as  men  always  suffer  for  novel- 
ties of  doctrine.  He  founded  the  convent  of  Paraclete, 
of  which  Heloise  was  the  first  abbess,  and  on  the  21st 
of  April,  1142,  he  expired,  aged  sixty-three.  '//  vecut 
dans  Vangoisse  et  mou  rut  dans  V  humiliation^  says  M. 
de  Remusat,   '  mats  il  eut  cle  la  gloire  et  ilfut  aimej" 

It  is  well  known  how  Isabella,  of  Castile,  honored 
herself  and  her  sex,  in  her  support  of  Columbus,  when 
all  men  failed  him,  and  heard  with  cold  incredulity 
the  hypothesis  on  which  he  built  his  hopes.  And  how, 
lacking  the  means  which  they,  (Kings  and  Princes), 
could  have  commanded  for  the  purpose,  she  placed  her 
personal  ornaments  and  treasures  at  his  disposal,  or 
rather  gave  them  to  the  service  of  Humanity  and  Pro- 
gress, as  represented  in  him — for  the  man  was  to  her 
only  the  representative  of  his  Idea  and  his  Hope. 

She  exhibited,  too,  in  the  general  administration  of 
her  affairs,  a  spirit  not  less  wise  than  courageous — not 
less  courageous  than  faithful  to  her  convictions — not 
less  faithful  than  just,  where  she  could  see  justice  amid 
the  rude  strife  and  conflicts  of  her  day.  She  put  an 
end  to  much  of  the  private  warfare  and  the  indulgence 
of  the  bitter  personal  feuds  which  had  kept  up  a' bar- 
barous social  condition  among  her  people.  Her 
American  biographer  says,  "  The  history  of  this  cam- 
paign is  indeed  most  honorable  to  the  courage,  con- 
stancy, and  thorough  discipline  of  a  Spanish  soldier, 
and  to  the  patriotism  and  general  resources  of  the 
nation  ;  but  most  of  all  to  Isabella,  She  it  was,  who 
fortified  the  timid  counsels  of  the  leaders  after  the  dis- 


203  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

asters  of  the  garden,  and  encouraged  them  to  persevere 
in  the  siege.  She  procured  all  the  supplies,  constructed 
the  roads,  took  charge  of  the  sick,  and  furnished  at  no 
little  personal  sacrifice,  the  immense  sums  demanded 
for  carrying  on  the  war ;  and,  when  at  last  the  hearts 
of  the  soldiers  were  fainting  under  long  protracted  suf- 
ferings, she  appeared  among  them  like  some  celestial 
visitant,  to  cheer  their  faltering  spirits,  and  inspire 
them  with  her  own  energy.  *  *  *  The  sympathy 
and  tender  care  with  which  she  regarded  her  people, 
naturally  raised  a  reciprocal  sentiment  in  their  bosoms. 
But  when  they  beheld  her  directing  their  counsels, 
sharing  their  fatigues,  and  displaying  all  the  compre- 
hensive intellectual  powers  of  the  other  sex,  they  looked 
up  to  her  as  to  some  superior  being,  with  feelings  far 
more  exalted  than  those  of  mere  loyalty.        *       *       * 

"  She  contemplated  the  proposals  of  Columbus  in 
their  true  light ;  and  refusing  to  hearken  any  longer  to 
the  suggestions  of  cold  and  timid  counselors,  she  gave 
way  to  the  natural  impulses  of  her  own  noble  and 
generous  heart.  '  I  will  assume  the  undertaking,'  said 
she,  '  for  my  own  crown  of  Castile,  and  am  ready  to 
pawn  my  jewels  to  defray  the  expenses  of  it,  if  the 
funds  in  the  treasury  should  be  found  inadequate.'  ': 

How  magnanimous  and  altogether  womanly  her 
treatment  of  the  great  discoverer  after  she  had  espoused 
his  despised  undertaking.  "Xo  sooner  were  the  ar- 
rangements completed,"  says  Mr.  Prescott,  "  than  Isa- 
bella prepared,  with  her  characteristic  promptness,  to 
forward  the  expedition  by  the  most  efficient  measures. 
She  undertook  the  enterprise  when  it  had  been  expli- 
citly declined  by  other  powers,  and  when  probably  none 
ether  of  that  age  would  have  been  found  to  counte- 
nance it ;  and  after  once  plighting  her  faith  to  Colum- 


HISTORIC    ARG1  .Ml-.N  I.  203 

bus,  she  became  his  steady  friend,  shielding  him  from 
the  calumnies  of  his  enemies,  reposing  in  him  the  most 
generous  confidence,  and  serving  him  in  the  most  ac- 
ceptable" (and  one  may  add  the  wisest  and  most  prac- 
tical) "  manner,  by  supplying  ample  resources  for  the 
prosecution  of  his  glorious  discoveries. 

"  The  French  and  Italian  writers  join  in  celebrating 
the  triumphant  glories  of  her  reign,  and  her  magna- 
nimity, wisdom,  and  purity  of  character.  Her  own 
subjects  extol  her  as  '  the  most  brilliant  exemplar  of 
every  virtue,'  and  mourn  over  the  day  of  her  death  as 
'  the  last  of  the  prosperity  and  happiness  of  their  coun- 
try.1 While  those  who  had  nearer  access  to  her  per- 
son, are  unbounded  in  their  admiration  of  those  amiable 
qualities  whose  full  power  is  revealed  only  in  the  unre- 
strained intimacies  of  domestic  life."* 

Carlisle  gives  us  the  portraits  of  two  women  lit- 
tle  known    in    general    history,  but   well   worthy    a 


*  However  justly  the  later  developments  of  the  secret  history 
of  those  times  may  abate  these  high  claims  for  Isabella  or  even 
deny  some  of  them  altogether,  it  canot  be  disputed  that  she  did 
some  of  the  noblest  work  of  her  time.  The  Simancas  papers  dis- 
close somewhat  in  her  career  it  must  be  confessed,  that  one  would 
rather  not  have  to  believe  of  man  or  woman,  but  a  good  deal  is 
attributable  to  her  age  of  bigotry  and  cruelty ;  and  not  a  little 
also  to  the  stringency  of  her  personal  feeling  of  religious  obliga- 
tion, which  rather  outstripped  than  lagged  behind  the  theoretical 
religion  of  her  day.  Her  most  bitter  assailants,  I  think  must  ad- 
mit that  she  showed  enough  of  conscience  in  its  finer  phasis, 
namely,  the  love  of  right,  as  distinguished  from  the  mere  stern,  it 
may  be  ungracious  and  harsh  sense  of  duty,  to  have  justified  the 
warmest  eulogiums  of  her  admirers,  had  she  lived  in  an  age  of 
greater  enlightenment. 


204  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

place  here'" — the  grandmother  and  great-grandmother 
of  Frederick  of  Prussia.     Of  the  former  he  says  : 

"  She  was,  in  her  time,  a  highly  distinguished  wo- 
man, and  has  left,  one  may  say,  something  of  her  like- 
ness still  traceable  in  the  Prussian  nation,  and  its  form 
of  culture,  to  this  day.  Charlottenburg,  (Charlotte's 
Town,  so  called  by  the  sorrowing  widower),  where  she 
lived,  shone  with  a  much-admired  French  light  under 
her  presidency — illuminating  the  dark  North  ;  and, 
indeed,  has  never  been  so  bright  since.  The  light  was 
not  what  we  can  call  inspired ;  lunar  rather,  not  of  the 
genial  or  solar  kind  ;  but,  in  good  truth,  it  was  the 
best  then  going ;  and  Sophie  Charlotte,"  who  was  her 
mother's  daughter,  in  this,  as  in  other  respects,  had 
made  it  her  own.  They  were  deep  in  literature,  these 
two  royal  ladies  ;  especially  deep  in  French  theolo- 
gical polemics,  with  a  strong  leaning  to  the  Rationalist 
side. 

"  They  had  stopped  in  Rotterdam  once,  on  a  certain 
journey  homeward  from  Flanders  and  the  Baths  of  Aix- 
la-Chapelle,to  see  that  admirable  sage,  the  doubter  Bayle. 
Their  sublime  messenger  roused  the  poor  man,  in  his 
garret  there,  in  the  Bompies — after  dark ;  but  he  had 
a  headache  that  night ;  was  in  bed,  and  could  not 
come.  He  followed  them  next  day,  leaving  his  paper 
imbroglios,  his  historical,  philosophical,  anti-theological 
marine-stores,  and  suspended  his  never-ending  scribble 
on  their  behalf,  but  would  not  accept  a  pension,  and 
give  it  up. 

They  were  shrewd,  noticing,  intelligent,  and  lively 
women ;  persuaded  that  there  was  some  nobleness  for 
man  beyond  what  the  tailor  imparts  to  him,  and  very 
eager  to  discover  it,  had  they  known  how.  In 
these  very  days,  while  our  little  Friedrich  at  Berlin 
lies  in  his  cradle,  sleeping  most  of  his  time,  sage  Leib- 
nitz, a  rather  weak,  but  hugely  ingenious  old  gentle- 
man, with  bright  eyes  and  long  nose,  with  vast  black 
peruke   and  bandy  legs,  is  seen  daily  in  the  Linden 


*  History  of  Frederick  the  Great. — Vol.  I. 


HISTORIC   ARGUMENT.  205 

Avenue,  at  Hanover,  (famed  Linden  Alley,  leading 
from  Town  Palace  to  Country  one,  a  couple  of  miles 
long,  rather  disappointing  when  one  sees  it),  daily 
driving  or  walking  toward  Herrenhausen,  where  the 
Court,  where  the  old  Electress  is,  who  will  have  a  touch 
of  dialogue  with  him  to  diversify  her  day.  Not  very 
edifying  dialogue,  we  may  fear;  yet  once  more,  the 
best  that  can  be  had  in  present  circumstances. 

"Here  is  some  lunar  reflex  of  Versailles,  which  is 
a  polite  court;  direct  rays  there  are  from  the  oldest 
written  Gospels  and  the  newest ;  from  the  great  unwritten 
Gospel  of  the  Universe  itself;  and  from  one's  own  real 
eifort,  more  or  less  devout,  to  read  all  these  aright. 
Let  us  not  condemn  that  poor  French  element  of  Eclec- 
ticism, Skepticism,  Tolerance,  Theodicea,  and  Bayle 
of  the  Bompies  versus  the  College  of  Saumur.  Let  us 
admit  that  it  was  profitable,  at  least  that  it  was  inevita- 
ble. Let  us  pity  it,  and  be  thankful  for  it,  and  rejoice 
that  we  are  well  out  of  it.  Skepticism,  which  is  there 
beginning  at  the  very  top  of  the  world-tree,  and  has  to 
descend  through  all  the  boughs,  with  terrible  results  to 
mankind,  is  as  yet  pleasant,  tinting  the  leaves  with  a 
line  autumnal  red. 

"  Sophie  Charlotte  partook  of  her  mothers  tenden- 
cies, and  carried  them  with  her  to  Berlin,  there  to  be 
expanded  in  many  ways  into  ampler  fulfillment.  She, 
too,  had  the  sage  Leibnitz  often  with  her  at  Berlin  ;  no 
end  to  her  questionings  of  him ;  eagerly  desirous  to 
draw  water  from  that  deep  well — a  wet  rope,  with  cob- 
webs sticking  to  it,  too  often  all  she  got;  endless  rope, 
ami  the  bucket  never  coming  to  view — which,  how- 
ever, she  took  patiently,  as  a  thing  according  to  Nature. 
She  had  her  learned  Beausobres  and  other  Reverend 
Edict-of-Xantes  gentlemen,  famed  Berlin  divines, 
whom,  if  any  Papist  notability,  Jesuit  Embassador  or 
the  like,  happened  to  be  there,  she  would  set  disputing 
with  him  in  the  Soiree  at  Charlottenburg.  She  could 
right  well  preside  over  such  a  battle  of  the  Cloud- 
Titans,  and  conduct  the  lightnings  softly,  without 
explosions.  There  is  a  pretty  and  very  characteristic 
Letter  of  hers,  still  pleasant  to  read,  though  turning  on 


206  WOMAN    A_ND    HER    ERA. 

theologies  now  fallen  dim  enough,  addressed  to  Father 
Vota,  the  famous  Jesuit,  King's  Confessor,  and  Diplo- 
matist from  Warsaw,  who  had  been  doing  his  best  in 
one  such  rencounter  before  her  majesty,  (date  March, 
1703),  seemingly  on  a  series  of  evenings,  in  the  inter- 
vals of  his  diplomatic  business,  the  Beausobre  champi- 
ons being  introduced  to  him  successively,  on  each 
evening,  by  Queen  Sophie  Charlotte.  To  all  appear- 
ance, the  fencing  had  been  keen ;  the  lightnings  in 
need  of  some  dexterous  conductor.  Yota,  on  his  way 
homeward,  had  written  to  apologize  for  the  sputterings 
of  lire  struck  out  of  him  in  certain  pinches  of  the  com- 
bat ;  says  it  was  the  rough  handling  the  Primitive 
Fathers  got  from  these  Beausobre  gentlemen,  who 
indeed,  to  me,  Yota  in  person,  under  your  Majesty's 
fine  presidency,  were  politeness  itself,  though  they 
treated  the  Fathers  so  ill.  Her  Majesty,  with  beautiful 
art,  in  this  Letter,  smooths  the  raven  plumage  of  Yota, 
and,  at  the  same  time,  throws  into  him,  as  with  invisi- 
ble needle-points,  an  excellent  dose  of  acupuncturation 
on  the  subject  of  the  Primitive  Fathers  and  the  Ecu- 
menic Councils,  on  her  own  score.  Let  us  give  some 
Excerpt,  in  condensed  state: 

" '  How  can  St.  Jerome,  for  example,  be  a  key  to 
Scripture  V  she  insinuates ;  citing  from  Jerome  this 
remarkable  avowal  of  his  method  of  composing  books  ; 
especially  of  his  method  in  that  Book,  Commentary  on 
the  Galatians,  where  he  accuses  both  Peter  and  Paul 
of  simulation,  and  even  of  hypocrisy.  'The  great  St. 
Augustine  has  been  charging  him  with  this  sad  fact,' 
says  her  Majesty,  who  gives  chapter  and  verse;  and 
Jerome  answers,  '  I  followed  the  Commentaries  of  Ori- 

gen,  of five  or  six  different  persons,  who  turned  out 

mostly  to  be  heretics  before  Jerome  had  quite  done 
witli  them  in  coming  years ! 

"  -  And  to  confess  the  honest  truth  to  you,'  continues 
Jerome,  'I  read  all  that;  and  after  having  crammed 
my  head  with  a  great  many  things,  I  sent  for  my 
amanuensis,  and  dictated  to  him  now  my  own  thoughts, 
now  those  of  others,  without  much  recollecting  the 
order,  nor  sometimes  the  words,  nor  even  the  sense.'  In 


HISTORIC    ARGUHEVF.  207 

another  place  (in  the  Book  itself  farther  on)  lie  says  :  'I 
do  not  myself  write;  I  have  an  amanuensis,  and  1  dic- 
tate to  him  what  comes  into  my  mouth.     If  I  wish  to 

reflect  a  little,  to  say  the  thing  better  or  a  better  thing, 
he  knits  his  brows,  and  the  whole  look  of  him  tells  me 
sufficiently  that  he  cannot  endure  to  wait.'  Here  is 
a  sacred  old  gentleman,  whom  it  is  not  safe  to  depend 
upon  for  interpreting  the  Scriptures,  thinks  her  Ma- 
jesty— hut  does  not  say  so,  leaving  Father  Yota  to  his 
reflections. 

"  These  were  Sophie  Charlotte's  reunions ;  very 
charming  in  their  time.  At  which  how  joyful  for  Irish 
Toland  to  be  present,  as  was  several  times  his  luck. 
Toland,  a  mere  broken  heretic  in  his  own  country, 
who  went  thither  once  as  Secretary  to  some  Embassy, 
(Embassy  of  Macclesfield's,  1701,  announcing  that  the 
English  Crown  had  fallen  Hanover- wards),  and  was 
no  doubt  glad,  poor  headlong  soul,  to  And  himself  a 
gentleman  and  a  Christian  again,  for  the  time  being — 
admires  Hanover  and  Berlin  very  much,  and  looks 
upon  Sophie  Charlotte  in  particular  as  the  pink  of 
women — something  between  an  earthly  Queen  and  a 
Divine  Egeria  ;  '  Serena'  he  calls  her ;  and,  in  his  high- 
flown  fashion,  is  very  laudatory.  '  The  most  beautiful 
princess  of  her  time,'  says  he — meaning  one  of  the  most 
beautiful  :  her  features  are  extremely  regular,  and  full 
of  vivacity;  copious  dark  hair,  blue  eyes,  complexion 
excellently  fair;  'not  very  tall,  and  somewhat  too 
plump,'  he  admits  elsewhere.  And  then  her  mind — for 
gifts,  for  graces,  culture,  where  will  you  find  such  a 
mind  ?  '  Her  reading  is  infinite,  and  she  is  conversant 
in  all  manner  of  subjects;'  'knows  the  abstrusest  pro- 
blems of  Philosophy,'  says  the  admiring  Toland  :  much 
knowledge,  everywhere  exact,  and  handled  as  by  an 
artist  and  queen  ;  for  k  her  wit  is  inimitable  ;'  '  her  just- 
ness of  thought,  her  delicacy  of  expression,'  her  felicity 
of  utterance  and  management,  are  great.  Foreign 
courtiers  call  her  'the  Republican  Queen.'  She  delects 
you  a  Bophistry  at  one  glance  ;  pierces  down  direct  upon 
the  weak  point  of  an  opinion ;  never,  in  my  whole  lii'e 
did  I,  Toland,  come  upon  a  swifter  or  sharper  iutel- 


2 OS  WOMAN    AND    HEK    ERA. 

lect.  And  then  she  is  so  good  withal,  so  bright  and 
cheerful,  and  '  has  the  art  of  uniting  what  to  the  rest 
of  the  world  are  antagonisms,  mirth,  and  learning' — 
say  even  mirth  and  good  sense — is  deep  in  music,  too  ; 
plays  daily  on  her  harpsichord,  and  fantasies,  and  even 
composes,  in  an  eminent  manner.  Toland's  admira- 
tion, deducting  the  high-flown  temper  and  manner  of 
the  man,  is  sincere  and  great. 

"  Beyond  doubt  a  bright,  airy  lady,  shining  in  mild 
radiance  in  those  Northern  parts ;  very  graceful,  very 
witty  and  ingenious  ;  skilled  to  speak,  skilled  to  hold 
her  tongue — which  latter  art  also  was  frequently  in 
requisition  with  her.  She  did  not  much  venerate  her 
husband,  nor  the  Court  population,  male  or  female, 
whom  he  chose  to  have  about  him;  his  and  their  ways 
were  by  no  means  hers,  if  she  had  cared  to  publish  her 
thoughts.  Friedrich  I.,  it  is  admitted  on  all  hands, 
was  'an  expensive  Herr ;'  much  given  to  expensive 
ceremonies,  etiquettes,  and  solemnities;  making  no 
great  way  any  whither,  and  that  always  with  noise 
enough,  and  with  a  dust-vortex  of  courtier  intrigues 
and  cabals  encircling  him,  from  which  it  is  better  to 
stand  quite  to  windward.  Moreover,  he  was  slightly 
crooked,  most  sensitive,  thin  of  skin,  and  liable  to  sud- 
den flaws  of  temper,  though  at  heart  very  kind  and 
good.  Sophie  Charlotte  is  she  who  wrote  once, 
'  Leibnitz  talked  to  me  of  the  infinitely  little  (de  Vin- 
v '■• '/i  iment  petit) :  mon  Dieu,  as  if  I  did  not  know 
enough  of  that !'      *         *         *         *         *         ■* 

"  That  is  the  way  of  female  intellects  when  they 
are  good;  nothing  equals  their  acuteness,  and  their 
rapidity  is  almost  excessive.  Samuel  Johnson,  too,  had 
a  young  lady  friend  once  '  with  the  acutest  intellect  I 
have  ever  known.' " 

There  is  also  a  sister  of  this  Monarch,  Princess 
Wilhelmina,  who  seems  to  have  been  one  of  the  cha- 
racters holding  a  strong  and  wise  influence  over  her 
brother  through  all  his  early  years.  She  is  industrious, 
studious,  spirited,  yet  patient ;  self-asserting  in  matters 


HISTORIC    ARGUMENT.  209 

of  unquestionable  right,  yet  submissive  and  Belf-saeri- 

ficing  when  she  saw  that  the  happiness  of  those  who 
had  claims  on  her  was  at  stake — affectionate,  beloved, 
trusted   for  much  management,  in  an  honest,  worthy 

way,  of  a  Father  and  Mother  whom  nobody  else  seemed 
able  to  manage;  and  almost  worshiped  by  her  great 
and  royal  Brother,  who  introduces  his  bride  to  her  on 
the  evening  of  their  arrival  at  the  paternal  palace,  in 
these  words  :  "This  is  a  sister  whom  I  adore,  and  am 
obliged  to  beyond  measure.  She  has  the  goodness  to 
promise  me  that  she  will  take  care  of  you,  and  help 
you  with  her  good  counsel.  I  wish  you  to  respect  her 
beyond  even  the  king  and  queen,  and  not  to  take  the 
least  step  without  her  advice." 

" Poor  Princess,  she  has  a  heavy  time  of  it, 

but  there  is  a  tough  spirit  in  her;  bright,  sharp,  like  a 
swift  saber,  not  to  be  quenched  in  any  coil,  but  always 
cutting  its  way  and  emerging  unsubdued." 

Maria  Theresa,  of  Austria,  we  also  know  for  a  wo- 
man of  great  power,  intrepidity,  firmness,  and  justice. 
She  abolished  in  her  dominions  the  inquisition  and 
rack,  as  well  as  the  order  of  Jesuits ;  prohibited  males 
or  females,  under  twenty-five  years,  from  becoming 
members  of  convents,  founded  new  schools  and  im- 
proved old  ones;  granted  prizes  to  successful  students, 
patronized  very  substantially  the  Arts  and  Agriculture; 
cultivated  peace  as  far  as  her  times  permitted ;  but, 
driven  to  war,  conducted  it  with  spirit,  ability,  and 
humanity,  so  far  as  was  possible — was  an  affectionate 
wife,  a  loving,  pains-taking  mother,  and,  better  than 
Empress,  Wife,  or  Mother,  because  it  includes  them  as 
parts  of  itself — was  for  her  day,  a  noble,  tender,  brave 
Woman. 

Robertson,  in  his  History  of  Phillip  III.,  tells  us  of 


210  WOMAN   AND    HER    ERA. 

an  Italian  woman,  Galigai  by  name,  wife  of  Coucino 
Goncini,  who  went  to  France  in  the  train  of  Mary  de 
Medeci.  They  became  unpopular  during  the  agitations 
of  her  regency,  and  their  death  was  so  desirable  to  the 
party  coveting  their  power,  that  Coucini,  then  Mares- 
chal  d'Ancre,  was  torn  to  pieces  in  the  most  horrible 
manner,  by  the  populace,  who  were  stimulated  by  his 
enemies,  and  his  wife  was  arrested  and  tried  for  sor- 
cery. "  She  exerted  on  her  trial,  and  in  her  last  mo- 
ments," says  the  historian,  "  a  constancy  and  strength 
of  mind,  which  the  melting  spectators  comjDared  with 
the  fortitude  of  Socrates,  and  contrasted  with  those 
tears  which,  not  many  years  before,  disgraced  the  exit 
of  the  intrepid  Duke  of  B Iron. " 

I  will  only  remind  the  reader  of  the  fortitude,  mod- 
esty, sweetness,  gentleness,  and  firmness  displayed  in 
the  character  of  that  young  woman,  who,  to  gratify  the 
ambition  of  selfish  and  heartless  men,  left  her  studies 
and  teachers,  and  submitted,  against  her  own  wishes, 
to  be  proclaimed  Queen  of  England.  Every  one  knows 
how  bravely  and  sweetly  she  met  the  terrible  fate 
which  descended  upon  her,  after  nine  days  of  painful 
pageantry,  which  she  had  never  any  heart  in,  were 
over.  And  how,  though  only  seventeen,  a  tender, 
loving  bride  of  less  than  a  year's  experience,  she  gave 
from  her  full  heart  of  courage  and  faith,  a  smile  to  her 
husband  as  he  passed  to  execution,  which  cheered  and 
supported  him  on  the  scaffold  where  she  would  in  a 
few  minutes  stand  in  his  foot  prints — the  weak  sus- 
taining the  strong — not  in  escaping,  but  in  sharing  his 
fate.  AYas  Lady  Jane  Gray  an  exception  to  all  young 
women  of  her  day  and  nation,  or  were  there  many 
others  as  noble,  who  lacked  only  the  experience  that 
would  have  furnished  occasion  to  prove  their  nature  ? 


HISTORIC    ABGUMENT.  211 

From  the  private  journal  of  Lavater,  the  celebrated 
Physiognomist,  Mrs.  Child  makes  the  following  extract 
in  her  "  Biographies  of  Good  Wives": 

"January  2d. — My  wife  asked  me,  during  break- 
fast, what  sentiment  I  had  chosen  for  the  present  day. 
I  answered,  'Henceforth,  my  dear,  we  will  pray  and 
read  together  in  the  morning,  and  choose  a  common 
sentiment  for  the  day.  The  sentiment  I  have  chosen 
for  this  day,  is, '  Give  to  him  that  asketh  of  thee,  and 
from  him  that  would  borrow  of  thee,  turn  not  thou 
away.'  '  Pray  how  is  this  to  be  understood  V  said  she. 
I  replied,  '  Literally.'  '  That  is  very  strange  indeed  !' 
answered  she.  I  said  with  some  warmth,  '  AVe  at  least 
must  take  it  so,  my  dear;  as  we  would  do,  if  we  heard 
Jesus  Christ  himself  pronounce  the  words.  '  Give  to  him 
that  asketh  of  thee,'  says  he,  '  whose  property  all  my 
possessions  are.  I  am  the  steward,  and  not  the  pro- 
prietor of  my  fortune.'  My  wife  merely  replied,  that 
she  would  take  it  into  consideration. 

"I  was  just  risen  from  dinner,  when  a  widow- 
desired  to  speak  with  me.  I  ordered  her  to  be  shown 
into  my  study.  '  My  dear  sir,  I  entreat  you  to  excuse 
me,'  said  she  ;  '  I  must  pay  my  house-rent,  and  I  am 
six  dollars  short.  I  have  been  ill  a  whole  month,  and 
1  could  hardly  keep  my  poor  children  from  starving. 
I  must  have  the  six  dollars  to-day  or  to-morrow.  Pray 
hear  me,  dear  sir.'  Here  she  took  a  small  parcel  out 
of  her  pocket,  untied  it,  and  said,  '  There  is  a  book  en 
chased  with  silver;  my  husband  gave  it  to  me  when  I 
was  betrothed.  It  is  all  I  can  spare;  yet  it  will 
not  be  sufficient,  I  part  with  it  with  reluctance,  for  I 
know  not  how  I  shall  redeem  it.  My  dear  sir,  can  you 
assist  meV  I  answered,  '  Good  woman,  I  cannot  assist 
you.'  So  saying,  I  put  my  hand  accidentally  or  from 
habit,  into  my  pocket.  I  had  about  two  dollars  and  a 
half.  'That  will  not  be  sufficient, '  said  I  to  myself; 
she  must  have  the  whole  sum  ;  and  if  it  would  do,  I 
want  it  myself.'  I  asked  if  she  had  no  patron  or 
friend,  who  would  assist  her?  She  answered,  'No;  not 
a  living  soul;  and  I  wili   rather  work  whole  nights, 


212  WOMAN   AXD    HEE    EEA. 

than  go  from  house  to  house.  I  have  been  told  you 
were  a  kind  gentleman.  If  you  cannot  help  me,  I  hope 
you  will  excuse  me  for  giving  you  so  much  trouble.  I 
will  try  how  I  can  extricate  myself.  God  has  never 
yet  forsaken  me  ;  and  I  hope  he  will  not  begin  to  turn 
away  from  me  in  my  seventy-sixth  year.'  My  wife 
entered  the  room.  O  thou  traitorous  heart !  I  was 
angry  and  ashamed.  I  should  have  been  glad  if  I 
could  have  sent  her  away  under  some  pretext  or  other, 
because  my  conscience  whispered  to  me,  '  Give  to  h  vm 
that  asketh  of  thee,  and  do  not  turn  away  from  Iron 
who  woidd  borrow  of  thee?  My  wife,  too,  whispered 
irresistibly  in  my  ear,  '  She  is  an  honest,  pious  woman, 
and  has  certainly  been  ill ;  do  assist  her,  if  you  can.' 
Shame,  joy,  avarice,  and  the  desire  of  assisting  her, 
struggled  together  in  my  heart.  I  whispered,  '  I  have 
but  two  dollars  by  me,  and  she  wants  six.  I  will  give 
her  something,  and  send  her  away.'  My  wife  pressing 
my  hand,  with  an  affectionate  smile,  repeated  aloud 
what  my  conscience  had  been  whispering,  '  Give  to 
him  who  asketh  thee,  and  do  not  turn  away  from  him 
who  would  borrow  of  thee.'  I  asked  her  archly, 
whether  she  would  give  her  ring  to  enable  me  to  do 
it  ?  '  With  great  pleasure,'  she  replied,  pulling  off  her 
ring.  The  good  old  woman  was  too  simple  to  observe, 
or  too  modest  to  take  advantage  of  the  action.  When 
she  was  going,  my  wife  asked  her  to  wait  a  little  in  the 
passage.  '  Were  you  in  earnest,  my  dear,  when  you 
offered  your  ring  V  said  I.  '  Indeed  I  was,'  she  replied. 
'  Do  you  think  I  would  sport  with  charity  ?  Remember 
what  you  said  to  me  a  quarter  of  an  hour  ago.  I  en- 
treat you  not  to  make  an  ostentation  of  the  Gospel. 
You  have  always  been  so  benevolent.  Why  are  you 
now  so  backward  to  assist  this  poor  woman  (  Did  you 
not  know  there  are  six  dollars  in  your  bureau,  and  it 
will  be  quarter-day  very  soon  V  I  pressed  her  to  my 
heart,  saying,  '  You  are  more  righteous  than  I.  Keep 
your  ring — I  thank  you.'  I  went  to  the  bureau  and 
took  the  six  dollars.  I  was  seized  with  horror  because 
I  had  said,  '  I  cannot  assist  you.'  The  good  woman  at 
first  thought  it  was  only  a  small  contribution.     When 


HISTORIC    ARGUMENT.  213 

she  saw  that  it  was  more,  she  kissed  my  hand,  and 
could  not,  at  first,  utter  a  word.  'How  shall  I  thank 
you?5  she  exclaimed.  'Did  you  understand  me?  I 
nave  nothing  but  this  book,  and  it  is  old.'  '  Keep  the 
book  and  the  money,' said  I,  hastily;  and  thank  God — 
not  me.  I  do  not  deserve  your  thanks,  because  I  so  long- 
hesitated  to  help  you.'  I  shut  the  door  after  her,  and 
was  so  much  ashamed  that  I  could  hardly  look  at  my 
wife.  '  My  dear,'  said  she,  '  make  yourself  easy  ;  you 
have  yielded  to  my  wishes.  While  I  wear  a  golden  ring, 
(and  you  know  I  have  several),  you  need  not  tell  a 
fellow-creature  in  distress  that  you  cannot  assist  him.' 
I  folded  her  to  my  heart  and  wept." 

I  give  this  little  narrative  at  length,  because  it  emi- 
nently illustrates  the  Man  and  the  Woman.  Lavater 
was  ready  enough  with  the  theoretic  (intellectual)  ac- 
knowledgment of  Charity.  There  is  no  doubt  he  could 
have  defended  it  ably,  had  his  wife  ventured  to  deny 
the  practical  character  of  the  injunction  he  had  chosen 
for  the  day's  reflections,  instead  of  contenting  herself 
with  simply  stating  that  she  found  a  difficulty  in 
seeing  it. 

But  the  time  for  Doing,  is  the  hour  that  proves  the 
soul,  and  what  stuff  it  is  of,  more  than  the  intellect, 
and  what  it  is  capable  of.  Doubtless  it  is  good  to  have 
true  theories,  and  intellectually,  if  no  deeper,  to  enter- 
tain a  conviction  of  the  beauty  and  duty  of  Charity, 
Compassion,  and  the  other  Christian  virtues.  The 
world  is  moved  by  theories  well-stated,  and  earn- 
estly and  bravely  defended  ;  but  in  high  matters,  like 
these,  the  nature  is  more  proved  in  one  spontaneous, 
true  act,  like  Mine.  Lavaters,  than  it  would  be  in  a 
dozen  able,  and  even  glowing  discourses  on  Charity. 
Lavater  evidently  needed  a  day's  reflection  on  the  sub- 
lime passage  he  had  chosen,  and  some  work  in  its  spirit 
too;  though  he  would  no  doubt  have  laughed  at  the 


214  WOMAN    AND    HEE    ERA. 

idea  of  his  wife,  a  person  whom  the  world  had  never 
heard  of,  helping  him  to  a  clearer  understanding  of  it 
than  lie,  a  divine  and  man  of  genius,  could  help  him- 
self to. 

"  How  is  it  to  be  understood?"  inquires  the  woman, 
a  little  at  a  loss  in  her  thought. 

"  Literally,"  of  course,  is  the  man's  reply  ;  prompt 
and  complacent.  But  Mine.  L.  had  probably  never 
furnished  herself  with  a  theory  of  Charity,  and  was  not, 
therefore,  prepared  to  give  any  clearer  meaning  to  the 
passage  than  its  own  words  conveyed.  She  reflects. 
He  goes  on  to  expatiate  upon  it,  putting  himself,  in 
doing  so,  in  the  position  of  her  teacher,  and  making 
himself  seem,  before  her  reverence,  almost  one  with  the 
original  utterer  of  those  words ;  while  her  doubt,  then 
and  there  expressed,  unquestionably  had  the  effect 
to  make  her  seem  to  herself  and  him,  far  less  divine 
and  Christlike  than  himself,  and  a  fit  person  to  receive 
instruction  from  him,  upon  the  high  themes  of  the 
Christlike  attributes  and  deeds  of  the  human  life.  Yet 
mark  the  issue.  He  makes  a  little  ministerial  flourish 
about  obedience,  his  own  stewardship  of  his  fortune, 
&c,  evidently  meaning  at  the  least,  a  gentle  rebuke  to 
the  worldliness  of  spirit  he  finds  in  her,  to  which  she 
meekly  replies  that  she  will  consider  the  thing ;  and 
there  can  be  no  doubt  that,  had  the  subject  been  re- 
turned to  in  conversation  ere  it  came  up  practically 
before  them,  he  would  have  felt  bound  to  insist  on  his 
own  higher  views,  and  convert  her  to  them  if  possible. 
But  when  "  she  that  asked,"  stood  before  thern,  which 
was  the  doer  of  the  Charity  he  inculcated  f 

There  is  a  genuine  grace  in  his  telling  the  story  so 
circumstantially  and  candidly,  notwithstanding  its 
bearing  upon  himself,  and  a  womanly  frankness  and 


HISTORIC    ARGUMENT.  215 

tenderness  in  the  confession  with  which  he  closes  it, 
that  are  altogether  charming.  • 

There  is  somewhere  in  French  history,  a  pleasing 
and  interesting  account  of  a  woman  named  Anne 
Biget,  who  was  for  many  years  porteress  in  a  convent 
at  Besanc^on,  and  who,  retiring  upon  a  very  small  pen- 
sion, when  she  was  quite  advanced  in  life,  devoted 
herself  to  the  care  of  the  crippled  and  wounded  sol- 
diers, the  sick  and  suffering,  and  prisoners  in  Napole- 
on's wars.  She  was  known  as  Sister  Martha,  and  was 
so  indefatigable,  tender  and  faithful  in  her  charitable 
works,  that,  in  spite  of  herself  and  her  simplicity  of 
life  and  character,  she  became  famous  among  the  mon- 
archs  who  assembled  in  Paris ;  for  all  whose  subjects 
she  had  cared  equally,  so  far  as  they  fell  in  her  way  ; 
and  was  rewarded  by  them  with  medals,  crosses,  gifts 
of  money,  and  pensions ;  and  what  was  much  better, 
treated  by  them  with  a  respect  which  testified  their 
acknowledgment  of  her  noble  virtues. 

Lamartine  introduces  one  of  the  leaders  of  the 
Girondists  in  these  words  :* 

"  The  ardent  and  pure  mind  of  a  female  was  worthy 
of  becoming  the  focus  to  which  converged  all  the  rays 
of  the  new  truth,  in  order  to  become  prolific  in  the 
warmth  of  the  heart,  and  to  light  the  pile  of  old  insti- 
tutions. Men  have  the  spirit  of  truth,  women  only,  its 
passion.  There  must  be  love  in  the  essence  of  all  crea- 
tions. It  would  seem  as  though  truth,  like  Nature,  has 
two  sexes.  There  is  invariably  a  woman  at  the  begin- 
ning of  all  great  undertakings.  One  was  requisite  to 
the  principle  of  the  French  Revolution.  We  may  say 
that  Philosophy  found  this  woman  in  Madame  Roland. 

"The  historian,  led  away  by  the  movement  of  the 
events  which  he  retraces,  should  pause  in  the  presence 

*  History  of  the  Girondists,  vol.  I. — Book  VIII. 


21b  WOMAN    AXD    HEE    ERA. 

of  this  serious  and  touching  figure,  as  passengers  stopped 
to  contemplate  her  sublime  features  and  white  dress  on 
the  tumbril  which  conveyed  thousands  of  victims  to 
death.  To  understand  her,  we  must  trace  her  career 
from  the  atelier  of  her  father  to  the  scaffold.  It  is  in  a 
woman's  heart  that  the  gem  of  virtue  lies;  it  is  almost 
always  in  private  life  that  the  secret  of  public  life  is 
reposed." 

Madame  Roland  united  the  tenderness,  grace,  and 
spirit  of  a  woman,  with  the  intellectual  clearness  and 
comprehensiveness  that  belong  peculiarly  to  women, 
and  make  them  objects  of  profound  trust  by  men  in 
times  of  trouble.  The  devotion,  loftiness,  aspiration, 
courage,  patriotism,  and  love  of  humanity  that  moved 
her,  have  been  rarely  equaled,  and  were  never  sur- 
passed, in  the  bosom  of  any  man.  With  an  exquisite 
and  noble  beauty  of  person,  with  the  power  to  charm 
the  senses  and  hearts  of  all  who  approached  her,  with 
the  finest  genius  for  controlling  human  passions  to  noble 
purposes,  with  a  loyalty  to  truth  which  made  it  im- 
possible for  her  to  waver  in  its  support,  Lamartine 
says: 

"Heroism,  virtue,  and  love,  were  destined  to  pour 
from  their  three  vases  at  once,  into  the  soul  of  a 
woman  destined  to  this  triple  palpitation  of  grand 
impressions.         *         *         w         *         * 

"  It  was  impossible  that  the  name  of  Madame 
Roland  should  long  escape  the  resentment  of  the  people. 
That  name  alone  comprised  an  entire  party.  The  soul 
of  the  Gironde,  this  woman  might  one  day  prove  a  very 
Nemesis,  if  permitted  to  survive  those  illustrious  indi- 
viduals who  had  preceded  her  to  the  grave.  On  the 
31st  May,  Madame  Roland  was  committed  to  the 
prison  of  l'Abbaye.  *  *  *  *  *  The  examina- 
tion and  trial  of  Madame  Roland  was  but  a  repetition 
of  those  charges  against  the  Gironde  with  which  every 
harangue  of  the  Jacobin  party  was  filled.     She  was 


HISTOEIC    ARGUMENT.  217 

reproached  with  being  the  wife  of  Roland,  and  the 
friend  of  his  accomplices.  With  a  proud  look  of  triumph, 
Madame  Roland  admitted  her  guilt  in  both  instances ; 
spoke  with  tenderness  of  her  husband,  of  her  friends 
with  respect,  and  of  herself  with  dignified  modesty ; 
but  borne  down  by  the  clamors  of  the  Court  whenever 
she  gave  vent  to  her  indignation  against  her  persecu- 
tors, she  ceased  speaking  amid  the  threats  and  invec- 
tives of  her  auditors.  The  people  were  at  that  period 
permitted  to  take  a  fearful  and  leading  part  in  the  dia- 
logue between  the  judges  and  the  accused  ;  they  even 
permitted  the  persons  tried  to  address  the  Court,  or 
compelled  their  silence ;  the  very  verdict  rested  with 
them. 

"  Madame  Roland  heard  herself  sentenced  to  death 
with  the  air  of  one  who  saw  in  her  condemnation 
merely  her  title  to  immortality.  She  rose,  and  slightly 
bowing  to  her  judges,  said  with  a  bitter  and  ironical 
smile,  'I  thank  you  for  considering  me  worthy  to  share 
the  fate  of  the  good  and  great  men  you  have  mur- 
dered !'  She  flew  down  the  steps  of  the  Conciergerie, 
with  the  rapid  swiftness  of  a  child  about  to  attain  some 
long-desired  object :  the  end  and  aim  of  her  desires  was 
death.  As  she  passed  along  the  corridor,  where  all  the 
prisoners  had  assembled  to  greet  her  return,  she  looked 
at  them  smilingly,  and  drawing  her  right  hand  across 
her  throat,  made  a  sign  expressive  of  cutting  off  a  head. 
This  was  her  only  farewell ;  it  was  tragic  as  her  des- 
tiny— joyous  as  her  deliverance  ;  and  well  was  it  under- 
stood by  those  who  saw  it.  Many  who  were  incapable 
of  weeping  for  their  own  fate,  shed  tears  of  unfeigned 
sorrow  for  hers. 

"  On  that  day  a  greater  number  than  usual  of  carts 
laden  with  victims  rolled  onwards  towards  the  scaffold. 
Madame  Roland  was  placed  in  the  last,  beside  a  weak 
and  infirm  old  man,  named  Lamarche,  once  directory 
of  the  manufactory  of  Assignats.  She  wore  a  white 
robe,  as  a  symbol  of  her  innocence,  of  which  she  was 
anxious  to  convince  the  people ;  her  magnificent  hair, 
black  and  glossy  as  a  raven's  wing,  fell  in  thick  masses 
almost  to  her  knees ;  her  complexion,  purified  by  her 

1  i 


218  WOMAN    AND    HEE,    ERA. 

long  captivity,  and  now  glowing  under  the  influence  of 
a  sharp,  frosty  November  day,  bloomed  with  all  the 
freshness  of  early  youth.  Her  eyes  were  full  of  ex- 
pression ;  her  whole  countenance  seemed  radiant  with 
glory,  while  a  movement  between  pity  and  contempt 
agitated  her  lips.  A  crowd  followed  them,  uttering 
the  coarsest  threats  and  most  revolting  expressions. 
'  To  the  guillotine !  to  the  guillotine !'  exclaimed  the 
female  part  of  the  rabble.  '  I  am  going  to  the  guillo- 
tine,' replied  Madame  Roland  :  '  a  lew  moments  and  I 
shall  be  there ;  but  those  who  send  me  thither,  will  not 
be  long  ere  they  follow  me.  I  go  innocent,  but  they 
will  come  stained  with  blood,  and  you  who  applaud 
our  execution,  will  then  applaud  theirs  with  equal  zeal.' 
Sometimes  she  would  turn  away  her  head,  that  she 
might  not  appear  to  hear  the  insults  with  which  she 
was  assailed,  and  lean  with  almost  filial  tenderness  over 
the  aged  partner  of  her  execution.  The  poor  old  man 
wept  bitterly,  and  she  kindly  and  cheeringly  encouraged 
him  to  bear  up  with  firmness,  and  to  suffer  with  resig- 
nation. She  even  tried  to  enliven  the  dreary  journey 
they  were  performing  together,  by  little  attempts  at 
cheerfulness,  and  at  length  succeeded  in  winning  a 
smile  from  her  fellow-sufferer. 

"  A  colossal  statue  of  Liberty,  composed  of  clay,  like 
the  liberty  of  the  time,  then  stood  in  the  middle  of  the 
Place  de  la  Concorde,  on  the  spot  now  occupied  by  the 
Obelisk ;  the  scaffold  was  erected  beside  this  statue. 
Upon  arriving  there,  Madame  Roland  descended  from 
the  cart  in  which  she  rode.  Just  as  the  executioner 
had  seized  her  arm,  to  enable  her  to  be  the  first  to 
mount  to  the  guillotine,  she  displayed  one  of  those  noble 
and  tender  considerations  for  others  which  only  a 
woman's  heart  could  conceive,  or  put  into  practice  at 
such  a  moment.  '  Stay  !'  said  she,  momentarily  resist- 
ing the  man's  grasp.  '  I  have  only  one  favor  to  ask, 
and  that  is  not  for  myself;  I  beseech  you  grant  it  me.' 
Then  turning  to  the  old  man,  she  said,  '  Do  you  pre- 
cede me  to  the  scaffold  ;  to  see  my  blood  flow,  would 
be  making  you  suffer  the  bitterness  of  death  twice  over. 
I  must  spare  you  the  pain  of  witnessing  my  punish- 


HISTORIC   ARGUMENT.  2  IS 


ment.'  The  executioner  allowed  this  arrangement  to 
be  made. 

"  What  a  proof  this  of  a  mind  imbued  with  a  sensi- 
bility so  exquisite  and  delicate  as  to  forget  its  own  suf- 
ferings, to  think  only  of  saving  une  pang  to  an  aged, 
an  unknown  old  man !  and  how  clearly  does  this  one 
little  trait  attest  the  heroic  calmness  with  which  this 
celebrated  woman  met  her  death ;  this  one  closing  act 
of  her  life  should  be  sufficient  to  vindicate  her  charac- 
ter before  both  God  and  man. 

"  After  the  execution  of  Lamarche,  which  she  heard 
without  changing  color,  Madame  Roland  stepped  lightly 
up  to  the  scaffold,  and  bowing  before  the  statue  of  Lib- 
erty, as  though  to  do  homage  to  a  power  for  which  she 
was  about  to  die,  exclaimed,  '  O  Liberty !  Liberty ! 
how  many  crimes  are  committed  in  thy  name  !'  She 
then  resigned  herself  to  the  hands  of  the  executioner, 
and  in  a  few  seconds  her  head  fell  into  the  basket 
placed  to  receive  it." 

It  is  known  how  the  monster  of  the  French  Revo- 
lution, Marat,  met  his  death  at  the  hands  of  a  young 
woman,  who,  feeling  that  it  was  necessary  to  the  honor 
of  France,  that  his  enormities  should  end,  devoted  her- 
self to  his  destruction,  knowing  that  her  own  must  fol- 
low. It  is  worth  while,  in  illustration  of  our  idea,  to 
note  the  calmness  of  this  girl,  wdio  had  seen  but  seven- 
teen summers,  and  who,  inexperienced,  was  yet  devel- 
oped, through  much  thought,  religious  meditation,  and 
earnest  love,  to  a  fitness  for  the  highest  work  the  hand 
of  man  or  woman  could  then  do  in  France.  Let  it  be 
remembered  that  in  those  days  blood  was  almost  as 
familiar  to  French  men  and  women  as  the  water  of 
their  rivers — that  hundreds  of  lives  were  daily  sacri- 
ficed to  the  passion  for  it  in  those  who  had  the  power 
to  condemn  the  victims,  among  whom  were  the  noblest 
and  purest  persons  of  both  sexes — and  that  this  wretch 
was  the  insatiable  fiend  of  the  time,  whose  cry  was 


220  "WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

"  kill,  kill !"  His  name  became  the  synonym  for 
blood — it  wTas  spoken  with  a  shudder ;  horror  and  fear 
seized  upon  brave  men  and  good  women  at  the  sound 
of  it.  His  death  was  desired  by  all,  but  those  of  his 
own  party,  and  evil-minded  people  who  had  become 
hardened  into  indifference  to  his  terrible  deeds.  Yet 
there  was  not  found  a  man  to  undertake  it.  Men  must 
be  moved  by  enmity,  more  or  less  of  personal  hatred, 
or  envy,  or  revenge,  and  so  moved,  they  do  not  go  to 
their  work  as  Charlotte  Corday  went  to  hers — free 
from  passion — unstained  by  selfishness  in  any  form — 
fronting  her  own  death  all  the  way,  and  looking  it 
calmly  in  the  face,  so  that  she  should  but  accomplish 
what  she  had  undertaken  : 

"  The  true  cause,"  says  Lamartine,  "  was  her 
patriotism.  A  presentiment  of  terror  already  spread 
over  France  at  this  moment.  The  scaffold  was  erected 
in  Paris.  They  spoke  of  speedily  carrying  it  through 
all  the  republic.  The  power  of  La  Montagne  and 
Marat,  if  it  triumphed,  could  only  defend  itself  by  the 
hand  of  the  executioner.  The  monster,  it  was  said, 
had  already  written  the  lists  of  proscription,  and 
counted  the  number  of  heads  which  were  necessary  for 
his  suspicions  and  his  vengeance.  Two  thousand  five 
hundred  victims  were  marked  out  in  Lyons,  three 
thousand  at  Marseilles,  twenty-eight  thousand  at  Paris, 
and  three  hundred  thousand  in  Brittany  and  Calvados. 
To  check  such  an  effusion  of  blood,  Charlotte  desired 
to  shed  her  own.  The  more  she  broke  her  ties  on 
earth,  the  more  agreeable  would  she  be  as  the  volun- 
tary victim  to  the  liberty  which  she  desired  to 
appease. 

"  Such  was  the  secret  disposition  of  her  mind ;  but 
Charlotte  desired  to  see  clearly  before  she  struck  the 
blow. 

"  She  could  not  better  enlighten  herself  upon  the 
state  of  Paris,  upon  men  and  matters,  than  through  the 


11ISTOKIC   ABGUMENT. 

Girondists,  the  parties  interested  in  this  cause.  She 
wished  to  sound  them  without  disclosing  herself  to 
them.  She  respected  them  sufficiently  not  to  reveal  a 
project  which  they  might  have  possibly  regarded  as  a 
crime,  or  prevented  as  a  generous  but  rash  act.  She 
had  the  constancy  to  conceal  from  her  friends  the 
thought  of  sacrificing  herself  for  their  safety.  She  pre- 
sented herself  under  specious  pretexts  at  the  Hotel  of 
Intendance,  where  the  citizens  who  had  business  with 
them  could  approach  the  deputies.  She  saw  Buzot, 
Petion,  and  Lou  vet.  She  discoursed  twice  with  Bar- 
baroux.  The  conversation  of  a  young,  beautiful, 
and  enthusiastic  maiden,  with  the  youngest  and  hand- 
somest of  the  Girondists,  under  the  guise  of  politics, 
was  calculated  to  give  rise  to  calumny,  or  at  least  to 
excite  the  smile  of  incredulity  upon  some  lips.  It  was 
so  at  the  first  moment.  Louvet,  who  afterward  wrote 
a*  hymn  to  the  purity  and  glory  of  the  young  heroine, 
believed  at  first  in  one  of  those  vulgar  seductions  of  the 
senses  with  which  he  had  embellished  his  notorious 
romance.  Buzot,  totally  occupied  with  another  image, 
hardly  cast  a  glance  upon  Charlotte.  Petion,  on  en  ras- 
ing the  public  hall  of  the  Intendance,  where  Charlotte 
awaited  Barbaroux,  kindly  rallied  her  on  her  assiduity, 
and  making  allusion  to  the  contrast  between  such  a 
step  and  her  birth,  '  Behold  then,'  said  he,  '  the  beauti- 
ful aristocrat,  who  comes  to  see  the  republicans !'  The 
young  girl  comprehended  the  smile,  and  the  insinuation 
so  wounding  to  her  purity.  She  blushed,  and  vexed 
afterwards  at  having  done  so,  answered  in  a  serious 
yet  gentle  tone,  '  Citizen  Petion,  you  judge  me  to-day 
without  knowing  me ;  one  day  you  will  know  who  I 
am.'         *         *         * 

"  The  gayety  which  Charlotte  had  always  mingled 
wTith  the  gravity  of  her  patriotic  conversations,  vanished 
from  her  countenance  on  quitting  forever  the  dwelling 
of  the  Girondists.  The  last  struggle  between  the 
thought  and  its  execution,  was  going  on  in  her  mind. 
She  concealed  this  interior  combat  by  careful  and  well- 
managed  dissimulation.  The  gravity  of  her  counte- 
nance alone,  and  some  tears,  ill-concealed  from  the 


222  WOMAN    AND    II ER    ERA. 

eyes  of  her  relatives,  revealed  the  voluntary  agonj  of 
her  self-immolation.  Interrogated  by  her  aunt,  w  I 
weep,'  said  she,  'over  the  misfortunes  of  my  country, 
over  those  of  my  relatives,  and  over  yours.  Whilst 
Marat  lives,  no  one  can  be  sure  of  a  clay's  existence.  *  * 

"  Finally,  on  the  9th  of  July,  very  early  in  the  morn- 
ing, she  took  under  her  arm  a  small  bundle  of  the  most 
requisite  articles  of  apparel,  embraced  her  aunt,  and 
told  her  she  was  going  to  sketch  the  haymakers  in  the 
neighboring  meadows.  With  a  sheet  of  drawing  paper 
in  her  hand,  she  went  out  to  return  no  more.  At  the 
foot  of  the  staircase  she  met  the  child  of  a  poor  laborer, 
named  Robert,  who  lodged  in  a  house  in  the  street. 
The  child  was  accustomed  to  play  in  the  Court.  She 
sometimes  gave  him  little  toys.  '  Here  !  Robert,'  said 
she  to  him,  giving  him  the  drawing  paper,  which  she 
no  longer  required  to  keep  her  in  countenance,  '  that  is 
for  you ;  be  a  good  boy,  and  kiss  me ;  you  will  never 
see  me  again.'  And  she  embraced  the  child,  leaving  a 
tear  upon  his  cheek.  That  was  the  last  tear  on  the 
threshold  of  the  house  of  her  youth.  She  had  nothing 
left  to  give  but  her  blood. 

"  The  freedom  and  harmlessness  of  her  conversation 
in  the  carriage  which  conveyed  her  towards  Paris  did 
not  inspire  her  traveling-companions  with  any  other 
sentiment  than  that  of  admiration,  good  will,  and  that 
natural  curiosity  which  attaches  itself  to  the  name  and 
fate  of  an  unknown  girl  of  dazzling  youth  and  beauty. 
She  continued  to  play  during  the  first  day  with  a  little 
girl,  whom  chance  had  placed  beside  her  in  the  car- 
riage. Whether  it  were  that  her  love  for  children  over- 
came her  pre-occupation  of  thought,  or  that  she  had 
already  laid  aside  the  burden  of  her  trouble,  and 
desired  to  enjoy  these  last  hours  of  sport  with  innocence 
and  with  life. 

"The  other  travelers  were  Montagnards,  who  fled 
from  the  suspicion  of  federalism,  to  Paris,  and  were 
profuse  in  imprecations  against  the  Girondists,  and  in 
adoration  for  Marat.  Attracted  by  the  graces  of  the 
young  girl,  they  strove  to  draw  from  her  her  name,  the 
object  of  her  journey,  and  her  address  in  Paris.     Her 


HISTORIC    ARGUMENT.  223 

loneliness  at  that  age,  encouraged  them  to  familiarities, 
which  she  repelled  by  the  modesty  of  her  manners,  and 
the  evasive  brevity  of  her  answers,  which  she  was  ena- 
bled to  terminate  by  feigning  sleep.  A  young  man, 
who  was  more  reserved,  seduced  by  so  much  modesty 
and  such  charms,  ventured  to  declare  to  her  his  respect- 
ful admiration.  He  implored  her  to  authorize  him  to 
ask  her  hand  of  her  relations.  She  turned  this  sudden 
love  into  kind  raillery  and  mirth.  She  promised  the 
young  man  to  let  him  know  her  name  and  her  disposi- 
tion in  regard  to  himself,  at  a  later  period.  She 
charmed  her  fellow-travelers  to  the  end  of  the  journey, 
by  that  delightful  conduct  from  which  all  regretted  to 
separate  themselves.  *  *         * 

"  A  priest,  sent  by  the  public  accuser,  presented 
himself  to  offer  the  last  consolations  of  religion. 
4  Thank,'  said  she  to  him,  c  those  who  have  had  the 
attention  to  send  you  ;  but  I  need  not  your  ministry. 
The  blood  I  have  spilt,  and  my  own  which  I  am  about 
to  shed,  are  the  only  sacrifices  I  can  offer  the  Eternal.' 
The  executioner  then  cut  off  her  hair,  bound  her  hands, 
and  put  on  the  chemise  des  condamitveH.  '  This,'  said 
she,  '  is  the  toilette  of  death,  arranged  by  somewhat 
rude  hands,  but  it  leads  to  immortality.'  She  collected 
her  long  hair,  looked  at  it  for  the  last  time,  and  gave 
it  to  Madame  Richard.  As  she  mounted  the  fatal  cart, 
a  violent  storm  broke  over  Paris,  but  the  lightning  and 
rain  did  not  disperse  the  crowd  who  blocked  up  the 
squares,  and  bridges,  and  streets  along  which  she 
passed.  Hordes  of  women,  or  rather  furies,  followed 
her  with  the  fiercest  imprecations ;  but,  insensible  to 
these  insults,  she  gazed  on  the  populace  with  eyes 
beaming  with  serenity  and  compassion. 

"  The  sky  cleared  up,  and  the  rain,  which  wetted 
her  to  the  skin,  displayed  the  exquisite  symmetry  of 
her  form,  like  that  of  a  woman  leaving  the  bath.  Her 
hands  bound  behind  her  back,  obliged  her  to  hold  up 
her  head,  and  this  forced  rigidity  of  the  muscles  gave 
more  fixity  to  her'attitude,  and  set  off  the  outlines  of 
her  figure.  The  rays  of  the  setting  sun  fell  on  her  head, 
and  her  complexion,  hightened    by  the  red  chemise, 


224  WOMAN    AND   HER    ERA. 

seemed  of  an  unearthly  brilliancy.  Robespierre,  Dan- 
ton,  and  Camille  Desmoulins,  had  placed  themselves 
on  her  passage,  to  gaze  on  her ;  for  all  those  who  anti- 
cipated assassination,  were  curious  to  study  in  her  fea- 
tures the  expression  of  that  fanaticism  which  might 
threaten  them  on  the  morrow.  She  resembled  celestial 
vengeance,  appeased  and  transfigured,  and  from  time 
to  time  she  seemed  to  seek  a  glance  of  intelligence  on 
which  her  eye  could  rest.  Adam  Lux  awaited  the  cart 
at  the  entrance  of  the  Rue  St.  Honore,  and  followed  it 
to  the  foot  of  the  scaffold.  '  He  engraved  in  bis  heart,' 
to  quote  his  own  words,  'this  unutterable  sweetness 
amidst  the  barbarous  outcries  of  the  crowd,  that  look 
so  gentle,  yet  penetrating — these  vivid  flashes  which 
broke  forth  like  burning  ideas  from  these  bright  eyes, 
in  which  spoke  a  soul  as  intrepid  as  tender.  Charming 
eyes,  which  would  have  melted  a  stone.' 

"Thus  an  enthusiastic  and  unearthly  attachment 
accompanied  her,  without  her  knowledge,  to  the  very 
scaffold,  and  prepared  to  follow  her,  in  hope  of  an  eter- 
nal re-union.  The  cart  stopped,  and  Charlotte,  at  the 
sight  of  the  fatal  instrument,  turned  pale,  but,  soon 
recovering  herself,  ascended  the  scaffold  with  as  light 
and  rapid  a  step  as  the  long  chemise  and  her  pinioned 
arms  permitted.  When  the  executioner,  to  bare  her 
neck,  removed  the  handkerchief  that  covered  her 
bosom,  this  insult  to  her  modesty  moved  her  more  than 
her  impending  death ;  then,  turning  to  the  guillotine, 
she  placed  herself  under  the  axe.  The  heavy  blade 
fell,  and  her  head  rolled  on  the  scaffold.  One  of  the 
assistants,  named  Legros,  took  it  in  his  hand  and 
struck  it  on  the  cheek.  It  is  said  a  deep  crimson  suf- 
fusion overspread  the  face,  as  though  dignity  and 
modesty  had  for  an  instant  lasted  longer  even  than 
life." 

I  would  refer  in  this  connection  to  Josephine,  but 
that  the  story  of  her  power — so  great,  yet  so  peculiarly 
womanly — has  been  so  often  told,  that  it  will  scarcely 
bear  repetition  here  within  the  compass  of  my  plan. 


HISTORIC    ARGUMENT.  225 

"  It  is  extraordinary  to  consider,"  says  the  Margravine 
of  Anspach,  "  how  great  an  influence  she  possessed  over 
Napoleon.  She  could  curb  his  passions,  which  at  times 
were  violent,  by  her  look  alone.  One  day  lie  entered 
her  apartment,  displaying  signs  of  great  anger,  having 
received  letters  which  had  caused  that  effect.  lie 
walked  with  violence  about  the  room,  giving  way  to  a 
gust  of  passion.  Josephine,  with  an  eye  of  fixed  regard 
upon  him,  said,  "  Napoleon  !  thou  forgettest."  He 
became  instantly  pacified  ;  and  taking  her  hand,  which 
he  kissed,  said,  "  yes,  my  dear  wife,  it  is  thou  who 
savest  me  always." 

The  same  reasons  which  forbid  more  than  this  bare 
reference  to  her,  prohibit  me  also  from  introducing  the 
unfortunate,  but  now  vindicated,  Marie  Antoinette, 
whose  tender,  unostentatious,  womanly  charities,  in 
the  days  of  her  happiness,  alone  would  fill  a  pleasant 
little  volume,  and  whose  courage,  fidelity,  and  dignity, 
in  the  tragical  close  of  her  life,  commanded  the  admira- 
tion even  of  such  bitter  and  brutal  enemies  as  sur- 
rounded her ;  or  the  excellent  Madame  Elizabeth — or 
the  Princess  de  Lamballe — or  the  faithful  Madame  de 
Polignac,  who  died  of  a  heart  broken  with  grief  and 
sympathy  for  her  noble  Queen  and  friend. 

It  would  be  a  pleasure  to  go  farther,  and  rescue  the 
names  and  careers  of  other  noble  women  in  which  this 
field  abounds,  from  the  misunderstanding  which  dims 
their  memory,  but  I  must  forbear.  Revolution  is  pre- 
eminently the  movement  for  which  woman  is  fitted  by 
her  sympathies  with  humanity,  her  hopes  in  the  future, 
her  unreserved  devotion  to  the  good  that  she  sees  to 
be  possible,  and  her  quick  faculty  for  seizing  on  the 
approaches  to  it ;  and  if  France  was  disgraced  by  her 
suns  in  their  Reign  of  Terror,  she  was  vindicated  by 
10* 


226  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

her  daughters,  many  of  whom  bore  testimony  to  the 
nobility  of  the  nature  which  thousands  of  men  seemed 
to  live  only  to  degrade, in  the  eyes  of  all  who  had  before 
yielded  it  respect. 

In  Roscoe's  Life  of  Sismondi,  I  find  the  following 
tribute  to  a  woman  : 

"  To  his  mother,  a  woman  of  superior  mind  and 
great  energy,  Sismondi  appears  to  have  been  mainly 
indebted  for  the  germs  of  those  excellent  qualities,  both 
as  a  citizen  and  a  writer,  which  later  in  life  were  so 
powerfully  developed  and  so  admirably  displayed. 
From  her  the  future  historian  received  his  first  intel- 
lectual impressions,  no  less  than  that  early  discipline 
of  the  heart  and  mind,  without  which  no  high,  inspired, 
and  virtuous  efforts  are  long  sustained,  or  crowned  with 
perfect  success.  And  it  was  of  no  evanescent  charac- 
ter, but  extended  its  beneficent  influence  through  the 
many  vicissitudes,  the  early  toils  and  disappointments, 
the  manly  struggles,  and  the  late  matured  triumphs  of 
his  literary  career.  The  lofty  and  almost  aristocratic 
feeling — however  modified  by  popular  principles — the 
pure  sentiment,  rising  above  every  corrupt  or  vulgar 
taint,  that  sense  of  man's  dignity  and  enlightened  love 
of  the  people,  everywhere  so  manifest  in  the  writings 
of  M.  Sismondi,  and  which  give  to  his  profound 
researches  a  peculiar  interest  and  charm,  added  to  that 
of  a  singular  vivacity  and  liveliness  of  style,  may  in 
part  probably  be  referred  to  the  same  origin  of  early 
maternal  instruction,  and  an  influence  which  imbued 
the  thoughts,  formed  the  task,  and  seemed  to  tinge  even 
the  language  and  expressions  of  the  author." 

Schiller  too  was  indebted  to  his  mother  for  the  gifts 
of  mind  and  heart  which  distinguished  him.  His  father 
was  a  stern,  severe  man,  of  good  character  and  great 
probity,  exemplary  and  faithful  as  a  citizen,  but  utterly 
lacking  in  fancy,  in  the  poetic  taste,  and  the  love  of  the 
Beautiful  Good,  which  made  his  son  one  of  the  lights 


HISTORIC    ARGUMENT.  227 

of  the  eighteenth,  century  in  Europe.  But  his  mother, 
while  she  was  a  woman  of  rare  acquirements  in  her 
rank,  was  also  a  serious,  thoughtful,  tender,  ideal  person, 
fond  of  poetry,  and  somewhat  given  to  writing  it.  (See 
Carlyle's  Life  of  Schiller). 

Carlyle  writes  thus  of  John  Sterling's  mother : 

"  Mrs.  Sterling,  even  in  her  later  days,  had  still 
traces  of  the  old  beauty ;  then  and  always  she  was  a 
woman  of  delicate,  pious,  affectionate  character ;  exem- 
plary as  a  wife,  a  mother,  and  a  friend.  A  refined 
female  nature ;  something  tremulous  in  it,  timid,  and 
with  a  certain  rural  freshness  still  unweakened  by  long 
converse  with  the  world.  The  tall  slim  figure,  always 
of  a  kind  of  Quaker  neatness ;  the  innocent,  curious 
face,  anxious,  bright,  hazel  eyes ;  the  timid,  yet  grace- 
fully cordial  ways,  the  natural  intelligence,  instinctive 
sense  and  worth,  were  very  characteristic.  Her  voice 
too,  with  its  something  of  soft  querulousness,  easily 
adapting  itself  to  a  light,  thin-flowing  style  of  mirth  on 
occasion,  was  characteristic;  she  had  retained  her 
Ulster  intonations,  and  was  withal  somewhat  copious 
in  speech.  A  fine  tremulous  sensitive  nature,  strong, 
chiefly  on  the  side  of  the  affections,  and  the  graceful 
insights,  and  activities  that  depend  on  these :  truly  a 
beautiful,  much-suffering,  much-loving  house-mother. 
From  her  chiefly,  as  one  could  discern,  John  Sterling 
had  derived  the  delicate  aroma  of  his  nature,  its  piety, 
clearness,  sincerity  ;  as  from  his  father,  the  ready,  prac- 
tical gifts,  the  impetuosities  and  the  audacities,  were 
also  (though  in  strange  new  form)"  visibly  inherited. 

*The  "  strange  new  form"  was  the  result  of  the  noble  temper- 
ing and  high  bent  which  the  paternal  qualities  received  from  the 
over-ruling  spirituality,  the  love,  and  the  poetic  qualities  of  the 
mother-nature  through  which  they  flowed ;  and  of  their  combina- 
tion with  "  the  piety,  clearness,  sincerity"  which  came  from  her. 
Had  she  been  wanting  in  these,  or  had  they  been  replaced  iu  her 
by  their  opposites  of  impiety,  muddiness,  and  insincerity,  it  is 
easy  to  conceive  that  "  the  practical  gifts,  the  impetuosities  and 


228  WOMAN   A2*D    HER    ERA. 

A  man  was  lucky  to  have  such  a  Mother ;  tc  have  such 

Parents  as  both  his  were." 

« 

The  purity,  tenderness,  and  elevation  of  life  that 
distinguished  Felicia  Hemans,  as  much  as  her  poetry, 
are  known  wherever  that  is  read.  Mrs.  Sigourney 
says,  "  In  her  we  see  the  true  poetic  genius  producing 
its  highest  effect,  the  sublimation  of  piety.  Cheering, 
by  its  versatile  powers,  the  darkness  of  her  destiny,  and 
gradually  throwing  off  all  stain  of  earthliness,  it  desired 
at  length  to  breathe  only  the  songs  of  Heaven.  '  Deep 
affections  and  deep  sorrows,'  she  writes,  '  have  solemn- 
ized my  whole  being,  and  I  now  feel  bound  to  higher 
and  holier  tasks,  which,  though  I  may  occasionally  lay 
aside,- 1  could  not  long  wander  from,  without  sense  of 
dereliction.'  " 

She  grew  heavenward  by  the  pure  attractions  of  a 
nature  whose  divinity  was  foreshadowed  in  a  pious, 
spiritual-minded,  loving  Mother,  who  was  the  solace 
of  her  happiest  years,  and  the  center  of  her  sympathies 
long  after  she  became  celebrated. 

Here  is  the  tribute  of  Hans  Christian  Andersen,* 
to  a  woman  still  living,  and  whom  many  of  us  have 
seen  and  some  have  loved  as  he  does :  "At  this  period 
of  my  life  I  made  an  acquaintance  which  was  of  great 
moral   and   intellectual   importance   to   me.     I   have 


audacities"  might  have  turned  out,  to  use  Carlyle's  own  phraseol- 
ogy, something  quite  other  than  the  gifts  which  made  the  noble, 
fascinating,  pure  nature  of  John  Sterling.  One  learns  to  feel,  in 
regard  to  these  things,  that  if  a  man  gets  into  his  nature  from  his 
mother,  "  a  delicate  aroma,  piety,  clearness,  sincerity,"  and  love, 
it  does  not,  for  his  highest  eternal  good,  greatly  matter  whither 
"its  audacities  and  impetuosities"  come  from, nor  indeed  so  much 
thnt  they  be  there  at  all. 

*  True  Story  of  My  Life,  p.  196. 


HISTORIC    ARGUMENT.  229 

already  spoken  of  several  persons  and  public  characters 
who  have  had  influence  on  me  as  a  poet ;  but  none  of 
these  have  had  more,  nor  in  a  nobler  sense  of  the  word, 
than  the  lady  to  whom  I  here  turn  myself;  she  through 
whom  I,  at  the  same  time,  was  enabled  to  forget  my 
individual  self,  to  feel  that  which  is  holy  in  Art,  and  tu 
become  acquainted  with  the  command  which  God  has 
given  to  genius.         *         * 

"  Through I  first  became  sensible  of 

the  holiness  there  is  in  Art ;  through  her  I  learned  that 
one  must  forget  oneself  in  the  service  of  the  Supreme. 
No  books,  no  men  have  had  a  better  or  more  ennobling 

influence  on  me,  as  the  poet,  than *   As 

she  makes  her  appearance  on  the  stage,  one  feels  that 
she  is  a  pure  vessel,  from  which  a  holy  draught  will  be 
presented  to  us." 

Miss  Bremer  says  of  the  same  woman,  "  Speak  to 
her  about  Art,  and  you  will  wonder  at  the  expansion  of 
her  mind,  and  will  see  her  countenance  beaming  with 
inspiration.  Converse  then  with  her  of  God,  and  of 
the  holiness  of  religion,  and  you  will  see  tears  in  those 
innocent  eyes ;  she  is  great  as  an  artist,  but  she  is  still 
greater  in  her  pure  human  existence  I" 

The  Bronte  Sisters  are  characters  for  History.  Their 
advent  into  the  world  of  authorship  marks  a  period  in 


*  How  many  men  in  private  as  well  as  in  public  life,  might 
truly  make  this  declaration  of  women  whom  they  have  known,  and 
who,  unconsciously,  perhaps,  to  both,  have  become  standards  for 
a  nobler  measurement  of  life,  and  a  purer  use  of  its  opportunities. 
I  have  heard  such  language  from  the  lips  of  various  men,  some- 
times in  the  rudest  walks  of  life ;  as  who  has  not,  that  ever 
searched  the  untroubled  depths  of  any  good  man's  heart,  or  even 
of  a  depraved  one,  in  an  hour  of  peaceful  withdrawal  from  the 
world,  or  of  earnest  self-examination  "? 


ZoU  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

novel  writing  prophetic  of  a  nobler,  more  interior,  ana- 
lytical, and  courageous  appeal  to  society  than  had  ever 
before  been  made  by  novelists.  Charlotte,  the  star  of 
first  magnitude  in  this  shining  little  constellation  of 
women  and  sisters,  has  commanded  a  recognition,  and 
sent  abroad  a  social  influence,  through  her  own  coun- 
try and  ours,  which  were  never  equaled,  as  the  fruits 
of  so  brief  a  career,  in  the  history  of  Woman. 

With  Woman,  as  the  chief  subject  of  her  books, 
but  apparently  with  no  better  philosophy  of  her — no 
more  advanced  theory  of  her  life  or  social  relations  than 
then  prevailed,  she  yet  makes  new  footprints  of  her 
own,  in  the  field  of  fiction.  At  once  clear  and  strong, 
intuitive  and  practical,  courageous  and  gentle,  swift, 
yet  tender,  and  full  of  the  sweet  humility,  which  is 
an  essential  of  womanly  greatness,  she  presents  her 
heroines  to  us  always  as  Women — Womanly  hopes, 
needs,  loves,  braveries  for  disappointment ;  fortitude 
and  unwavering  faithfulness  to  the  true,  as  they  see  it, 
through  all  trial,  destitution,  sorrow  and  pain ;  stead- 
fast, pressing — never  noisy,  yet  never  faltering,  for 
some  inherent  right — these  are  the  characterizing  traits 
of  her  ideal  women,  beside  that  they  are,  withal,  lova- 
ble, active,  and  careless  of  nothing  that  adorns  woman- 
hood. Such  women  were  rarely  shown — indeed  their 
like  in  all  points,  was  never  seen  in  novels  before  hers  ; 
but  when,  beyond  all,  they  are  seen  to  be  independent 
or  self-dependent,  as  need  or  other  circumstances 
require,  and  above  everything  else,  successful  in  main- 
taining themselves,  not  alone  in  the  material,  outer,  and 
lower  things  of  life,  but  in  the  inner,  mental,  spiritual, 
and  higher  goods  essential  to  real  growth  and  maturity 
of  character,  we  recognize  in  their  creator  a  prophetic, 
inspired  spirit. 

Jane  Eyre,  Shirley,  and  Lucy  Snowe,  are  phenomena 


HISTORIC    ARGUMENT.  L'crl 

among  the  creations  of  novelists,  and  though  neither 
does  or  says  anything  hinting  at  anew,  or  more  rational 
theory  of  woman's  life  and  relations,  than  they  were 
addressed  to,  yet  they  each  contribute  to  the  self- 
respect  which  women  of  the  better  sorts  are  beginning 
to  enjoy  in  being  natural ;  in  following  their  intuitions, 
and  in  recognizing  their  own  right  to  have  and  to 
acknowledge  to  themselves,  affections  which  Nature 
may  create  in  the  heart  of  woman  as  well  as  of  man, 
without  first  asking  leave  of  the  one  or  the  other.  No 
person  endowed  with  a  soul  can  read  Jane  Eyre,  and 
feel  that  she  was  likely  ever  to  have  done  aught  that 
would  misbecome  the  most  refined  and  delicate  female, 
or  that  the  life  whence  her  fine  ethereal  proportions 
sprung,  was  capable  of  a  sentiment  or  act  which  could 
dim  the  brightest  luster  of  womanhood.  Charlotte 
Bronte  saw,  through  her  intuitions,  the  approaching 
day  of  woman's  emancipation,  and  her  vivid  imagina- 
tion foreshadowed  it  independently  of  reason.  The 
experiences  by  which  she  sketched,  rather  than  filled 
or  shaded  the  pictures  she  has  left  us,  are  so  sharply 
defined  that  they  possess  us  ever  after  we  become 
acquainted  with  them,  as  if  our  dearest  friend  had  lived 
through  them.  We  consent  to  them  because  we  see 
their  fruit  in  genuine  growth,  which  we  know  can 
spring  from  no  false  seed.  We  rejoice  that  Jane  Eyre 
tells  Rochester  what  she  does  in  the  garden — that 
Shirley  defied  her  stolid  uncle  in  behalf  of  Louis  Moore, 
and  that  Lucy  Snowe  did,  contrary  to  the  history  of  all 
heroines  from  time  immemorial,  love  Paul  Emanuel 
after  Dr.  John  fell  in  love  with  the  pretty  little  Count- 
ess. But  all  this  good  service  to  her  sex,  (and  we  can- 
not yet  estimate  the  body  of  more  liberal  sentiment 
toward  the  freedom  of  Woman,  which  these  widely 


232  WOMAN    AND    HER    EEA. 

read  books  have  called  out  of  its  latent  form  in  thou- 
sands of  minds),  was  rendered  purely  from  the  intui- 
tions of  their  writer,  and  it  consequently  appealed  to 
the  same  in  her  readers.  Not  one  in  hundreds  of  the 
young  especially,  who  read  Jane  Eyre,  can  tell  why 
they  are  satisfied  with  her  declaration  of  her  feelings 
to  Rochester.  They  can  only  say  that  whereas,  before 
reading  that  book,  they  must  have  felt  an  unconquera- 
ble repugnance  toward  a  woman  capable  of  such  a 
thing,  they  are  glad  she  did  it,  and  can  no  more  return 
to  their  old  feeling  about  it,  in  any  true,  delicate,  and 
self-respecting  woman. 

A  great  advance  was  made  in  novel  writing  through 
these  books,  which  leave  but  one  regret  in  the  mind  of 
every  reader,  viz :  that  their  author  did  not  live  to 
double  or  treble  their  number.  And  here  I  cannot  for- 
bear saying  a  word  which  I  am  sorry  her  gifted  biogra- 
pher has  left  unsaid.  It  is  that  the  grand  mistake  of 
her  life  lay  in  persistently  acting  on  an  erroneous 
notion,  older  than  any  she  attacked,  but  one  very  likely 
to  control  a  woman  at  once  so  conscientious  and  so 
little  enlightened;  that,  namely,  of  almost  unlimited 
self-sacrifice  in  imaginary  duties  to  those  who  were  una- 
ble to  appreciate  her  generosity,  and  who,  therefore, 
never  set  any  limits  to  its  action. 

She  laid  down  years  of  her  bloom  and  best  power, 
and  finally  her  life,  beneath  the  Juggernaut  of  duty, 
fettering  and  impoverishing  herself,  and  robbing  the 
world  of  its  dues  from  her,  that  she  might  offer  herself 
a  living  sacrifice  to  those  who  knew  not  what  they 
were  receiving — as  if  a  slave  should  have  drunk  the 
Egyptian  Queen's  pearls.* 


*  Mrs.  GaskelPs  life  of  Charlotte  Bronte  fails  to  make  appa- 
rent this  grave  moral  error  in  her  career.     On  the  contrary,  the 


HISTORIC   ARGUMENT.  235 

Our  own  country  has  produced,  beside  many  others 
worthy  an  exalted  place  in  the  records  of  Woman,  one 
whose  name  makes  illustrious  the  small  company  of 
intellectual  and  good  women  whom  the  ages  have  fur- 
nished, Margaret  Fuller  Ossoli.  Her  life,  nut  lung  in 
years,  was  rich  enough  in  powers  and  uses  to  have 


noblest  and  most  ardent  young  readers  are  left  to  give  it  their 
full  admiration,  and  imitate  it  if  they  are  moved  to,  with  entire 
self-approval.  One  cannot  read  those  weary  pages  from  the 
Journal  and  letters  of  that  matchless  woman — which  hint  at, 
though  they  never  parade,  the  repeated,  never-ending  sacrifices 
wherein  she  gave  up  joyousness,  health,  power,  time,  and  achieve- 
ment, to  paltry  services  which  a  faithful  servant  could  so  much 
better  have  performed — without  feeling  impatient  that  no  wise, 
fit  word  follows,  warning  the  pure  and  aspiring,  who,  because 
they  are  capable  of  such  self-immolation,  are  best  worth  saving 
from  it,  that  a  life  so  religiously  misspent,  is  really  no  standard 
for  others. 

Another  and  more  important  point  in  which  these  volumes  fail, 
is  their  utter  neglect  to  furnish  any  analysis,  or  even  moderately 
critical  estimate  of  the  nature  of  the  woman  who  bore  these  six 
children — the  most  remarkable  family,  one  does  not  hesitate  to 
say,  ever  born  of  one  mother.  Six  children  of  whom  each  of  the 
five  females,  according  to  her  age,  gave  the  signs  or  proofs,  of 
genius  enough  to  have  made  her  name  celebrated — and  the  world 
full  of  speculation  upon  the  origin  of  character,  the  inheritance 
of  mental  power,  conditions  of  its  transmission,  preponderating 
influence  of  the  mother,  &c. — and  we  are  only  told  of  this  woman 
that  she  was  Miss  Bramvell,  born  and  reared  in  Penzance;  that 
she  was  an  orphan  at  twenty-five  or  six ;  twenty-nine  before  her 
marriage ;  patient  about  the  loss  of  a  box  of  goods  at  sea,  pious, 
elegant,  and  of  simple  tastes.  We  are  told  more  about  the  state 
of  society  at  Penzance  than  about  Mr.  Branwell's  family  or  his 
daughter;  and  some  connection  is  hinted  at  between  this  social 
condition  and  Charlotte  Bronte's  character  and  genius ;  though 
it  is  admitted  that  these  influences,  whatever  they  were,  were  quite 
as  likely  to  have  been  received  from  "Mr.  Vronte,  whose  inter- 
course  with  his    children  appears    to    have  been  considerably 


232 


WOMAN    AND    HEE    ERA. 


made  good,  before  her  tragical  death,  the  noblest  posi 
tion  that  the  mind  or  heart  of  a  woman  could  ask.  If 
I  were  making  a  plea  simply  for  the  mental  equality 
of  Woman  with  Man,  under  circumstances  that  favor 
equally  her  development,  I  should  need  to  name  but 
Elizabeth  Barrett  Browning,  Margaret  Fuller,  and 
Mary  Somerville,  to  complete  the  proof  that  such 
development  is  possible.  But  I  seek  to  establish  a 
higher  claim  for  woman  than  man  asserts  or  aspires  to 
for  himself,  and  for  this  claim  Margaret  Fuller  is  a 
steadfast,  clear-eyed,  strong-hearted  witness.  In  her 
the  loftiest,  the  most  tender,  unselfish,  and  Godlike 
nature  was  exemplified.  No  finer  mind  of  our  own  or 
the  late  preceding  ages,  was  ever  more  faithfully  bound 
to  angelic  uses,  than  hers  in  her  maturer  years.  No 
clearer  insight  penetrated  human  weaknesses,  no  ten- 
derer charity  sought  to  put  strength  in  their  stead. 
Her  sympathy  was  a  crystal  stream  flowing  from  a 
fountain  high  toward  the  heavens.  It  took  wide  and 
widening  sweeps,  and  at  last  embraced  mankind — losing 
sight  of  the  lines  of  separation  between  classes,  sects, 
parties,  nations,  and  races.  Like  her  gifted  cotempo- 
rary,  Mrs.  Browning,  it  was  sufficient  claim  upon  her 
to  be  human — nay,  to  be  alive,  if  far  lower  than  that, 
secured  her  reverence  and  ready  care.* 


restrained ;  (was  that  a  reason  for  his  becoming  a  medium  for 
the  social  influences  which  surrounded  them  ?)  "  or  from  an  aunt 
who  came  into  the  family  when  Charlotte  was  but  six  or  seven 
years  old,  to  take  charge  of  the  children  after  their  mothers 
death."  On  such  slight  and  uncertain  threads  of  circumstance, 
according  to  Mrs.  Gaskell,  may  the  rarest  powers  enter  and  take 
possession  of  the  human  soul ! 

*  How  many  women  who  are  unheard  of  beyond  their  fire- 
side, have  as  divine  a  reverence  for  right — as  living  a  sympathy 
with  the  fullness  of  perfection  toward  which  all  truly  natural  life 


HISTORIC  ABGUMBNT.  235 

It  is  asserted  that  women  liave  no  patriotism.  That  / 
the  charge  is  disproved  in  the  history  of  hundreds  of 
noble,  brave  women,  of  all  civilized  countries,  who, 
without  the  passion  that  nerves  and  sustains  men  as 
warriors,  have  freely  sacrificed  to  this  feeling  all  that 
could  make  life  desirable — husband,  children,  home, 
friends,  fortune ;  all  means  both  of  worldly  and  social 
happiness,  and  finally  life  itself,  seems  to  be  a  fact 
having  no  weight,  or  but  little,  With  men  who  make  it. 
But  such  a  life  as  Margaret  Fuller's,  redeems  her  sex 
from  the  charge,  by  showing  that  a  larger  love  replaces 
in  it,  the  lesser  one  in  man.  A  man  is  a  patriot  who 
loves  his  country  and  its  institutions,  though  they  be 

tends,  whether  in  the  vegetable  or  animal  world,  and  which  is 
to  be  attained  only  in  a  divinely  enjoyed  freedom.  How  rever- 
ently and  tenderly  girls  treat  living  things,  whether  in  field,  gar- 
den, or  farm-yard,  compared  with  boys.  The  one  fosters  and 
cherishes — delighting  in  the  joys  of  her  proteges — the  other  has 
in  the  same  objects,  not  so  much  proteges  as  subjects,  either  of 
authority  or  investigation,  out  of  which  he  is  destined  to  get,  nt 
any  cost,  all  varieties  of  expression  and  manifestation  which  the 
widest  course  of  experimental  treatment  he  can  devise,  will 
bring. 

This  divergence  of  the  two  natures  was  admirably  illustrated 
recently  by  a  couple  of  little  creatures,  mere  babes,  of  nearly  the 
same  age,  (between  three  and  four),  in  the  family  of  an  acquaint- 
ance of  mine.  The  mother  was  entertaining  her  little  son  by 
counting  his  toes,  after  he  had  been  prepared  for  bed,  and  syn  - 
bolizing,  with  their  help,  the  five  little  pigs  of  various  fortunes, 
famous  in  nursery  lore.  When  she  came  to  the  fifth,  which  of 
course  squealed  in  the  approved  style,  because  he  could  get 
nothing  to  eat,  the  little  hopeful  said  promptly,  "  Kill  him, 
mamma."  Mamma,  somewhat  astonished  at  the  proposal,  and 
withal,  pardonably  amused,  was  relating  her  experience  to  her 
guest  in  presence  of  her  little  daughter,  a  few  months  younger 
than  Sir  Dragon,  who  cried  out  earnestly,  "0  no — don't  tdV'im; 
but  div  Hm  sumpun  t'  ca' ."' 


236  WOMAN    AND    HEK    ERA. 

far  inferior  to  those  of  another  land — nay,  productive 
of  unutterable  evils  and  pains  to  millions  of  his  fellow- 
beings  ;  but  a  woman  who  would  be  patriotic  in  any 
worthy  sense,  would  rise  by  the  spirituality  of  her  na- 
ture, and  her  more  universal  sympathies,  to  a  higher  and 
broader  love.  The  globe  would  become  her  country, 
or  the  universe,  as  it  is  God's ;  and  all  human  beings 
her  countrymen — all  living  things  would  share  her  soul- 
tenderness,  her  thoughts,  and  efforts  for  their  good. 
They  can  bear  the  charge  of  being  unpatriotic,  who 
prove  that  they  love  all  lands  and  peoples  with  a  love 
which  does  not  await  the  day  of  wars  or  revolutions, 
but  works  with  equal  yearning  in  peace ;  as  nobly  and 
more  purely  thus  than  in  conflict,  to  give  right  direction, 
earnest  action,  and  pure  loves  to  all  life.  Margaret 
Fuller  was  a  patriot,  but  in  the  inclusive  rather  than 
the  exclusive  sense.  An  evil  institution  was  no  dearer 
to  her  for  being  American;  a  selfish,  base,  corrupt 
man,  poisoning  the  channels  of  public  or  private  life, 
no  more  admirable  in  her  eyes  that  he  was  born  in  the 
land  that  gave  her  birth,  than  if  he  had  first  drawn 
breath  in  Carthage  or  Lapland. 

She  was  an  intellectual  person,  whose  intellect  was 
refined  and  ennobled  in  being  womanly.  It  enlarged 
her  feminine  love,  and  her  feminine  love  exalted  and 
purified  it,  withholding  it  from  the  more  selfish  uses  to 
which,  in  a  man's  nature,  it  might  have  descended,  with- 
out reckoning  itself  prostituted,  and  directing  it  to 
ends  of  the  noblest  self-help  and  mutual  help,  toward 
development.  She  felt,  by  a  prophetic  quality  in  her 
nature,  the  Revolution  that  the  coming  days  would 
bring  to  Woman,  and  referring  to  Dr.  Channing,  says  : 
"  He  was  deeply  interesting  to  me,  as  having  so  true  a 
respect  for  Woman.    This  feeling  in  him  was  not  chiv- 


HISTORIC    ARGUMENT.  237 

alrons ;  it  was  not  the  sentiment  of  an  artist ;  it  was 
not  the  affectionateness  of  the  common  son  of  Adam, 
who  knows  that  only  her  presence  can  mitigate  his 
loneliness ;  but  it  was  a  religious  reverence.  To  him 
she  was  a  soul  with  an  immortal  destiny.  Nor  was 
there  at  the  bottom  of  his  heart  one  grain  of  masculine 
assumption.  He  did  not  wish  that  Man  should  protect 
her,  but  that  God  should  protect  her  and  teach  her  the 
meaning  of  her  lot." 

Of  the  correctness  of  my  estimate  of  her  large  love 
for  humanity,  I  find,  since  writing  the  above,  the  follow- 
ing direct  proof  in  her  own  words :  "  ISTo  !  we  cannot 
leave  society  while  one  clod  remains  unpervaded  by 
divine  life.  We  cannot  live  and  grow  in  consecrated 
earth  alone.  Let  us  rather  learn  to  stand  up  like  the 
Holy  Father,  and  with  extended  arms,  bless  the  whole 
world." 

Large  souls,  who  have  taken  bitter  experiences  as 
their  culture,  and  grown  stronger  and  diviner  through 
them,  will  appreciate  this  symbol  given  us  from  one  of 
her  manuscripts : 

"  There  is  a  species  of  Cactus,  from  whose  outer 
bark,  if  torn  by  an  ignorant  person,  there  exudes  a 
poisonous  liquid ;  but  the  nations  who  know  the  plant, 
strike  to  the  core,  and  there  find  a  sweet,  refreshing 
juice,  that  renews  their  strength." 

Her  deep  interest  in  the  subject  which  I  hope  is 
just  now  engaging  equally  your  intellect  and  heart, 
my  patient  reader,  is  amply  and  nobly  expressed  in  her 
"Woman  of  the  Nineteenth  Century,"  from  which  I 
make  the  following  extracts,  before  taking  leave  of  her 
here : 

"I  have  urged  on  woman  independence  of  man, 
not  that  I  do  not  think  the  sexes  mutually  needed  by 


238  WOMAN    AND    HER    EEA. 

one  another ;  but,  because  in  woman  this  fact  lias  led  to 
an  excessive  devotion  which  has  cooled  love,  degraded 
marriage,  and  prevented  either  sex  from  being  what  it 
should  be  to  itself  or  the  other. 

"  I  wish  woman  to  live  first  for  God's  sake.  Then 
she  will  not  make  an  imperfect  man  her  god,  and  thus 
sink  to  idolatry.  Then  she  will  not  take  what  is  not 
fit  for  her,  from  a  sense  of  weakness  and  poverty.*  Then, 
if  she  finds  what  she  needs  in  man  embodied,  she  will 
know  how  to  love,  and  be  worthy  of  being  loved.  By 
being  more  a  soul,  she  will  not  be  less  a  woman — for 
nature  is  perfected  through  spirit.         *         *         * 

u  Woman,  self-controlled,  would  never  be  absorbed 
by  any  relations ;  it  would  be  only  an  experience  to 
her  as  to  man.  It  is  a  vulgar  error  that  love,  a  love  to 
woman,  is  her  whole  existence  ;  she  is  also  born  for 
Truth  and  Love  in  their  universal  energy.  Would  she 
but  assume  her  inheritance,  Mary  would  not  be  the 
only  virgin  mother.  Not  Manzoni  alone  would  cele- 
brate in  his  wife  the  virgin  mind  with  the  maternal 
wisdom  and  conjugal  affections.  The  soul  is  ever 
young,  ever  virgin. 

"  And  will  she  not  soon  appear  %  The  woman  who 
shall  vindicate  their  fit  right  for  all  women  ?  who  shall 
teach  them  what  to  claim,  and  how  to  use  what  they 
obtain.  Shall  not  her  name  be  for  her  Era,  Victoria, 
for  her  country  and  life,  Virginia?  Yet  predictions 
are  rash  ;  she  herself  must  teach  us  to  give  her  the  fit- 
ting name." 

But  for  the  cutting  short  of  this  noble  life  on  a 
treacherous,  midnight  sea,  what  bloom  and  fruit,  fairer 
than  any  that  time  had  ever  produced  for  and  of  woman- 
hood, might  we  not  have  expected  of  it  ? 

Of  like  relation  to  her  sex,  but  of  very  dissimilar 
individuality,  is  she  whom  all  women,  proud  of  woman- 
hood and  of  honors  won  for  it  by  itself,  may  proudly 
name  as  the  first  of  living  Poets.  In  tenderness,  human 
love,  and  religious  passion,  no  man  or  woman  of  our 


HISTORIC   ARGUMENT.  239 

day  can  take  a  place  beside  her — Elizabeth  Barrett 
Browning — the  impersonation  of  the  feminine  spirit  of 
the  nineteenth  century — the  "  large-brained  and  large- 
hearted,"  as  she  sings  of  another  of  her  sex.  Will  not 
every  woman  and  man  who  reads  these  pages,  accept 
her  as  the  woman  in  whom  re-appears  the  powers  that 
have  vindicated  her  sex  in  time  past,  and  who  is  also 
its  prophet?  She  is  the  true  woman,  who,  saying  only 
what  she  feels,  and  less,  as  in  such  great  souls  feeling 
always  exceeds  speech — the  one  being  of  God,  the 
other  of  humanity ;  yet  utters  truths  which  inform  us 
of  a  purely  divine  spirit,  whose  inspiration  they  are. 

" Fame  indeed  'twas  said 

Means  simply  love.     It  was  a  Man  said  that." 

A  woman  knows  in  truth  that  fame  is  not  love — is 
not  any  true  thing,  indeed,  except  as  the  incident  of 
true  work.     This  again  is  a  woman  speaking  : 

"  What  form  is  best  for  poems?     Let  me  think 
Of  forms  less,  and  the  external.     Trust  the  spirit, 
As  sovran  nature  does,  to  make  the  form ; 
For  otherwise  we  only  imprison  spirit, 
And  not  embody.     Inward  evermore 
To  outward — so  in  life,  and  so  in  art, 
Which  still  is  life. 

^v?  ^  ^  tF  W  "TV*  "W 

I  am  sad. 
I  wonder  if  Pygmalion  had  these  doubts, 
And,  feeling  the  hard  marble  first  relent, 
Grow  supple  to  the  straining  of  his  arms, 
And  tingle  through  its  cold  to  his  burning  lip, 
Supposed  his  senses  mocked,  and  that  the  toil 
Of  stretching  past  the  known  and  seen,  to  reach 
The  archetypal  Beauty  out  of  sight, 
Had  made  his  heart  beat  fasi  enough  for  two, 
And  with  his  own  life  dazed  aud  blinded  him ! 
Not  so  *  Pygmalion  loved — and  whoso  lovos 
Believes  the  impossible." 


24:0  WOMAN    AND    HER    EEA. 

Spake  ever  in  words  a  more  genuine  woman  heart 
than  this ! 

"  And  -wilt  thou  have  me  fashion  into  speech 
The  love  I  bear  thee,  finding  words  enough, 
And  hold  the  torch  out  while  the  winds  are  rough, 
Between  our  faces,  to  cast  light  on  each  ? 
I  drop  it  at  thy  feet;  I  cannot  teach 
My  hand  to  hold  my  spirit  so  far  oif 
From  myself — me — that  should  bring  thee  proof 
In  words,  of  love  hid  in  me  out  of  reach. 
]STay,  let  the  silence  of  my  womanhood 
Commend  my  woman-love  to  thy  belief." 

The  pure  philanthropy  of  womanhood  is  amply  vin- 
dicated in  the  lives  and  characters  of  many  hundreds — 
nay,  of  thousands  of  the  sex,  who,  from  all  the  walks 
of  life,  have  devoted  themselves  to  the  mitigation  of 
human  suffering,  or  the  increase  of  happiness  for  others, 
finding  their  own  in  the  effort.  I  will  take  time  and 
space  to  name  here  but  four  of  the  many  whom  I  might 
incroduce.  Elizabeth  Fry,  Florence  Nightingale,  Doro- 
thea Dix,  and  Mary  Carpenter.  The  last  three  are 
yet  living,  and  all  but  Miss  Dix,  are  English  women. 
Elizabeth  Fry  made  her  name  honorable  by  her  labors 
for  outcast  and  imprisoned  women.  She  began  them 
unmoved  by  any  experimental  knowledge  of  the  hor- 
rors of  incarceration,  such  as  urged  John  Howard  to 
his  good  works  after  his  release  from  the  French 
prisons.  They  were  undertaken  spontaneously,  from 
the  pure,  genuine  sympathies  of  her  nature.  A  woman 
born  and  bred  in  luxury  and  refinement,  she  went, 
fearless  and  unshrinking,  into  the  foulest  prisons  in 
London,  where  depraved  and  despairing  women  were 
shut  up  like  wild  beasts  in  pits;  and  through  her 
courage,  firmness,   and  persistent    compassion  toward 


HISTORIC    ARGUMENT.  241 

them,  saw,  at  length,  the  realization  of  her  own  divine 
faith  in  the  deathless  nature  of  good  in  the  human  soul. 
She  was  remonstrated  with  by  the  prison-keepers,  who 
told  her  that  her  life  would  be  in  danger  among  those 
fiends.  She  was  urged  to  speak  to  them,  if  she  must, 
from  outside  the  grates,  and  that  failing,  she  was 
earnestly  advised  to  leave  her  watch,  light  shawl,  and 
everything  about  her  person  that  could  be  easily 
removed,  as  they  would  almost  certainly  be  stolen  or 
snatched  away  from  her  in  the  crowd  she  was  about 
entering.  But  she  replied  that  she  would  treat  them 
with  the  same  confidence,  in  trusting  herself  and  her 
possessions  among  them,  that  she  would  any  audience 
outside;  and  in  a  few  moments  the  rich,  refined, 
honored  lady  stood  face  to  face  with  a  crowd  of  the 
restless,  half-insane,  wild,  dissolute  women  of  the  city ; 
Ishmaels,  who  had  found  all  the  world  against  them, 
and  were  themselves  impotently  arrayed  against  it. 
They  looked  into  each  other's  eyes — till  tears  blinded 
them  that  they  could  see  no  longer.  Then,  feeling  the  pure 
compassion  and  love  which  had  brought  her  there,  they 
burst  into  a  wild,  fearful  outcry  of  pain,  remorse,  shame, 
longing  for  a  better  state,  which  her  presence  brought 
so  near  them.  Agonizing  entreaties  for  help,  waitings 
of  despair,  sobs,  and  half-suppressed  shrieks  of  intolera- 
ble anguish,  awakened  in  souls  that  had  known  no 
such  revulsion  for  years,  and  had  lost  faitli  in  their 
own  susceptibilities — all  these  demonstrations  of  the 
wretchedness  she  had  come  to,  poured  in  upon  her 
strong,  loving  heart,  and  calmed  and  quieted  it  for 
high  resolve  and  patient  doing  in  behalf  of  these  beings, 
who  (her  womanly  intuition  told  her)  could  not  be 
lost,  when  a  simple  act  of  real  kindness  like  that  visit, 
could  so  move  them.  From  that  time  during  all  the 
11 


242  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

active  years  of  her  life,  her  labors  were  continued,  en- 
larged, and  extended.  She  gave  up  her  ease,  her 
leisure,  the  pleasure  of  home  and  society,  in  a  great 
measure,  to  them,  and  her  name  became  equally  with 
Howard's,  in  England,  the  synonym  of  benevolence 
and  tender,  human  charity. 

Miss  Dix,  of  our  own  country,  and  Miss  Carpenter, 
of  England,  have,  in  later  years,  carried  forward  the 
same  noble  work,  in  different  departments ;  the  former 
devoting  hers  more  especially  to  securing  humane  treat- 
ment of  the  Insane.  Being  without  fortune  in  early 
life,  she  applied  herself  to  teaching  for  several  years, 
that  she  might  furnish  herself  with  the  means  of  set- 
ting out  in  her  work.  By  the  practice  of  a  severe 
economy,  as  I  have  been  indirectly  informed,  she  at 
length  saw  the  way  clear  before  her,  and  went  forth. 
Her  labor  consisted  mainly  in  visiting  public  asylums, 
(and  often  prisons),  acquainting  herself  with  their  con- 
dition and  plan  of  treatment — making  improved 
methods  known,  memorializing  Legislatures,  preparing 
and  printing  documents  of  statement  and  elucidation, 
and  in  short,  by  every  means  that  could  be  com- 
manded, making  herself  the  efficient  friend  and  pro- 
tector of  the  afflicted  class  she  had  adopted.  She  is  a 
bright  example  of  the  good. which  can  be  accomplished 
by  one,  apparently  feeble,  delicate  woman.  She  has 
traveled  thousands  of  miles,  forgetting  her  fatigue  in 
the  earnestness  of  her  purposes.  Her  journeys  have 
often  been  made  through  the  rudest  portions  of  the 
country,  at  the  most  inclement  seasons  of  the  year,  to 
meet  distant  legislative  bodies.  She  has  had  to  con- 
tend with  official  bigotry,  narrowness,  and  arrogance, 
in  men  from  whom  she  had  everything  to  ask — to 
bear  misunderstanding,  slander,  sneers,  and  ridicule; 


HISTORIC    ARGUMENT.  243 

to  hide  her  wounds,  feeling  that  the  work  must  he 
accomplished — to  nerve  herself  against  the  weariness 
of  body  and  spirit  which  the  bravest  must  feel  at  times, 
in  such  a  service ;  against  the  discouragement  of 
repeated  refusals,  which  must,  at  any  cost,  be  over- 
come, for  the  sake  of  those  who  had  neither  friend  or 
succor,  but  in  her — to  press  her  attack,  often  when  it 
seemed  ill-timed,  because  there  was  no  other  time  ;  and 
in  ill-taste,  because  it  was  a  weariness  and  a  bore  to  its 
object ;  but  so  she  has  made  her  name  to  be  honored 
among  the  good  of  the  earth. 

Of  Miss  Carpenter's  life  and  labors  I  have  very 
little  knowledge,  and  that  only  of  the  most  general 
character ;  but  such  as  it  is,  it  is  sufficient  to  entitle 
her  to  the  best  place  I  can  give  her  in  this  illustrious 
catalogue  of  names.  She  is  Mrs.  Fry's  successor 
among  outcast  women  in  her  country,  and  the  earnest- 
ness with  which  she  has  devoted  herself  to  their  reform, 
and  the  improvement  of  their  treatment  as  criminals, 
has  caused  her  to  be  held  in  honor  of  all  good  persons, 
and  her  work  to  be  reckoned  prominent  among  the 
practical  philanthropies  of  Britain  in  this  day. 

I  should  be  glad  to  set  forth  more  fully  the  testi- 
mony which  in  my  heart  and  consciousness  I  know  that 
her  life  furnishes,  for  the  cause  I  am  pleading;  but  as 
I  am  without  any  memoir  of  her,  or  memoranda  that 
would  avail  me  in  doing  so,  I  must  content  myself  with 
this  passing  recognition  of  her  as  one  of  the  witnesses 
for  womanhood. 

The  Crimean  war  had  many  features  to  make  it 
memorable.  It  was  the  first  important  interruption  to 
a  longer  and  more  beneficent  peace  among  civilizeea 
than  the  ages  had  seen — a  peace  fruitful  in  Arts,  Dis- 
coveries, Inventions,  and  Ideas,  whose  import  to  hui:  an 


244  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

growth  and  happiness  no  soul  living  among  ns  to-day, 
is  yet  able  to  estimate.  It  was  a  war  characterized  by 
many  traits  of  a  better  time  than  war  had  ever  before 
fallen  in ;  of  which  the  leading  one  was  the  open 
array  of  the  female  against  the  male  element,  not  in 
conflict,  but  in  their  characteristic  works  of  destroying 
and  saving,  of  mangling  and  healing.  The  troops 
engaged  there,  represented  their  respective  countries 
and  sovereigns,  and  were  in  no  wise  distinguished  from 
thousands  of  men  who  fought  and  died  a  century  or 
two  ago,  unless  in  their  physical  inferiority  and  in  its 
compensation  by  the  use  of  improved  implements  and 
arts  of  destruction.  The  representative  Idea  of  the 
age — the  fact  which  testified  to  higher  intelligences, 
had  they  taken  note,  that  the  conflict  they  witnessed 
was  in  the  Nineteenth,  and  not  the  Fourteenth 
Century,  was  the  presence  there  and  the  work  of  a 
woman ;  a  lady,  born  and  bred  to  ease,  luxury,  refine- 
ment and  elegance.  Florence  Nightingale  and  her 
train  of  female  friends  and  co-workers,  bore  to  the  Crimea 
the  testimony  of  the  sum  of  the  world's  advancement 
in  godliness  since  its  last  battles.  She  and  they  counter- 
balanced on  the  love  side,  the  Minie-rifles,  the  Paixhan 
guns,  the  torpedoes,  and  other  sub-marine  deviltries 
which  centupled  the  destructive  power  of  every  pair 
of  male  hands  engaged  in  that  war.  Fewer  in  number 
than  the  smallest  regiment  of  armed  men  sent  to  that 
peninsula — scarce  equaling  numerically  indeed,  an 
average  company — they  did  the  ever  memorable  and 
distinguishing  work  there. 

Balaklava,  Inkermann,  the  Charge  of  the  Six  Hun- 
dred, the  taking  of  the  Malakoff — these  have  each  their 
scores  of  rivals  in  the  history  of  man's  wars.  A  little 
more  or  less  bravery  than  had  been  exhibited  before — a 


HISTORIC   ARGUMENT.  245 

little  keener  piece  of  strategical  driving  or  resisting,  a 
little  nicer  study  of  the  availabilities  wherewith  Art  or 
Nature  had  supplied  Allies,  or  the  Victims  of  Allies — 
these  and  their  like,  were  the  possible  means  to  the 
masculine  forces  employed,  of  distinguishing  their  war 
from  a  thousand  others  no  less  petted  and  lionized  in 
their  clay,  now  long  past,  and  apt  to  be  reckoned 
somewhat  more  to  the  disgrace  than  the  human  honor 
of  those  who  initiated  and  conducted  them. 

It  is  not  Woman's  mission  to  order  that  wars  cease, 
but  to  subdue  the  fierce  selfishness  which  creates  them  ; 
to  neutralize  their  horrors,  to  disarm  the  ferocity  which 
urges  them  on ;  and,  by  making  herself  present  and 
potent  in  them,  to  put  them  gently  from  the  face  of 
the  earth. 

The  initiative  in  this  womanly  part  could  no  way 
be  so  effectively  taken  as  by  a  woman  of  rank  and 
refinement,  as  well  as  one  full  of  the  divine  tenderness 
and  compassion  which  are  characterizing  traits  of  her 
sex.  Hence,  Florence  Nightingale  becomes,  through  y 
the  wisdom  and  firmness  with  which  she  pressed  for 
her  position,  the  heroism  with  which  she  filled  it,  and 
the  high  fortitude  with  which  she  overcame  its  horrors  \ 
— thereby  showing  herself  practically  equal  to  all  that  ( 
she  claimed  the  liberty  to  do — a  Representative 
Woman.  She  stands,  with  her  broken  health,  but 
unbroken  spirit,  a  prophet  of  her  sex's  portion  in  man's 
future  ferocities.  A  name  never  to  be  forgotten,  and  a 
part  never  to  be  ignored,  are  hers  from  those  days  and 
nights  of  self-enforced  duties,  of  spirit-agonies,  acknow- 
ledged only  to  be  suppressed,  or  to  become  incentives 
to  more  strenuous  effort — of  horrors  never  permitted  in 
their  hour,  to  unfold  to  the  full  their  paralyzing  aspect 
and  stature,  but  examined  only  to  discover  their  true 


24:6  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

point  of  attack.  She  is  cherished  by  all  Christian  men 
and  women.  Girls  and  boys  glow  with  admiration 
and  reverence  as  they  read  or  hear  of  her ;  and,  sepa- 
rated from  the  ranks  of  those  whom  the  world  delights 
to  honor,  she  will  hold  henceforth  her  own  sacred 
niche  in  human  memory.  And  this  not  alone  because 
she  nursed,  soothed,  and  comforted  the  suffering  and 
dying ;  not  because  poor,  rude,  mangled  bodies — frag- 
ments of  men  who  had  been  torn  to  pieces,  and  half 
left  upon  battle-fields,  turned,  in  their  impotent  grati- 
tude and  love,  to  kiss  her  shadow  as  it  fell  athwart 
their  sleepless  pillows,  in  her  walks  and  watches ;  nor 
because,  forgetting  her  own  delicacy  and  feebleness, 
she  devoted  herself  to  her  terrible  labors  from  year  to 
year,  while  they  were  needed — as  faithful,  in  her  wo- 
man's tenderness,  to  the  humblest  soldier  as  to  his 
starred  and  titled  commander ;  to  her  enemies,  as  her 
countrymen.  Not,  I  say  for  any  or  all  these  doings ;  for 
hundreds,  perhaps,  first  and  last  before  her,  thousands, 
of  women  had  individually  done  the  same  things,  to 
the  extent  of  their  ability ;  but  because,  moved  by  a 
noble  courage  fitted  to  her  day,  and  touched  by  the 
subtlest  and  divinest  pulsation  of  the  age,  she  stood 
before  the  men  of  her  Nation  and  the  world,  and  said, 
"  I  perceive  that  my  sex  has  henceforth  a  part  in  the 
wars  you  prosecute.  I  perceive  that  we  belong  hence- 
forth to  fields  of  conflict  no  less  than  you.  You  sup- 
ply money,  men,  and  means  for  their  destruction ;  you 
send  Chaplains  to  symbolise  the  Christianity  of  your 
fighting — send  us  to  realize  its  Humanity.  I  can  go, 
and  will,  with  a  few  sisters  who  are  of  like  mind  with 
myself,  and  do  what  women  may,  for  the  sufferers  you 
will  multiply  around  us,  and  that  will  be  good  ;  but  it 
will  be  better  that  you  recognize  the  need  of  our  labov, 


HISTORIC    ARGUMENT.  224  < 

furnish  us  with  means  and  clothe  us  with  authority  to 
carry  it  forward.  So  will  you  honor,  not  us,  so  much 
as  yourselves;  not  yourselves  so  much  as  your  country 
and  age  ;  and  not  these  so  much  as  their  humanity,  of 
which  you  bear  witness." 

It  was  a  prayer  not  to  be  denied.  Coarse  men,  and 
many,  many  such  there  are  in  high  places,  jeered  and 
insinuated  what  was  eminently  worthy  of — themselves. 
Worldly  and  experienced  men  looked  coldly  at  her ; 
refined  and  fastidious  men  were  horrified,  and  only 
noble,  Godlike  men,  with  souls  like  her  own — reverent 
of  humanity  in  any  form,  whether  of  peasant  or  peer, 
and  capable  therefore  of  recognizing  in  its  tender  treat- 
ment, the  true  Christ-mission,  heard  her  sympathetic- 
ally, and  were  moved  to  further  her  angelic  purposes. 

And  thus  Florence  Nightingale's  fame  has  become 
a  part  of  the  treasure  of  every  fireside  circle  where  pure 
and  loving  deeds,  kindle  an  answering  glow  in  pure 
and  loving  bosoms ;  it  is  welcomed  from  every  pulpit 
where  human  goodness  is  enough  revered  to  warm  the 
sympathy  of  speaker  or  audience,  and  it  embellishes 
the  pages  of  books  and  the  columns  of  snail-pace  jour- 
nals, where,  but  for  her,  there  would  perhaps  be  written 
a  sneer  against  her  sex.  She  has  already  taken  her 
place,  an  exalted  one,  among  the  few 

" Who  give 

Better  life  to  those  that  live." 

She  is  quoted  by  grave  men  as  authority  for  the 
organization  and  management  of  hospitals ;  she  is 
looked  to  by  women  who  hope  for  wisdom  and  inspi- 
ration to  works  like  her  own,  from  her ;  and  when  she 
shall  pass  from  the  life  she  has  adorned  here,  to  the 
higher  one  awaiting  her,  what  love  and  veneration 
will  follow  her  hence  and  welcome  her  thither. 


248  WOMAN    AND    HER  ERA. 


SANTA    FILOMENA. 


"Whene'er  a  noble  deed  is  wrought, 
Whene'er  is  spoken  a  noble  thought, 

Our  hearts,  in  glad  surprise 

To  higher  levels  rise. 

The  tidal  wave  of  deeper  souls 
Into  our  inmost  being  rolls, 

And  lifts  us  unawares 

Out  of  all  meaner  cares. 

Honor  to  those  whose  words  or  deeds 
Thus  help  us  in  our  daily  needs, 
And  by  their  overflow, 
Raise  us  from  what  is  low ! 

Thus  thought  I,  as  by  night  I  read 

Of  the  great  army  of  the  dead ; 
The  trenches  cold  and  damp, 
The  starved  and  frozen  camp — 

The  wounded  from  the  battle-plain, 
In  dreary  hospitals  of  pain, 

The  cheerless  corridors, 

The  cold  and  stony  floors. 

Lo  !  in  that  house  of  misery, 

A  lady  with  a  lamp  I  see 

Pass  through  the  glimmering  gloom, 
And  flit  from  room  to  room. 

And  slow  as  in  a  dream  of  bliss, 
The  speechless  sufferer  turns  to  kiss 
Her  shadow,  as  it  falls 
Upon  the  darkening  walls. 

As  if  a  door  in  heaven  should  be 
Opened,  and  then  closed  suddenly, 

The  vision  came  and  went; 

The  light  shone  and  was  spent. 

On  England's  annals,  through  the  long 
Hereafter  of  her  speech  and  song, 

That  light  its  rays  shall  cast 

From  portals  of  the  past. 


HISTORIC   ARGUMENT.  249 

A  lady  with  a  lamp  shall  stand 
In  the  great  history  of  the  land, 

A  noble  type  of  good 

Heroic  womanhood. 

Nor  even  shall  be  wanting  here 
The  palm,  the  lily,  and  the  spear, 

The  symbols  that  of  yore 

Saint  Filomena  bore. 

The  reigning  Queen  of  England  is,  in  many 
respects,  worthy  a  place  among  the  women  who  are 
giving  a  warmer  color  of  hope  and  prophecy  to  our 
day.  Her  position  is  one  which  unites  great  difficulties 
with  great  advantages  for  individual  growth.  The 
exercise  of  power  by  a  right-intentioned  person,  is  so 
helpful  and  healthy,  that  one  feels  it  cannot  have 
failed  to  compensate  so  pure-hearted  and  earnest  a 
woman  as  Victoria  for  bearing,  even  from  youth,  the 
cumbrous  fetters  of  form  and  ceremony  it  has  laid  upon 
her — the  bondage  of  many  heavy  cares,  ill-suited  to  her 
quiet  nature,  and  the  burthen  of  pomp  and  show  so 
exacting  and  relentless,  that  they  must  often  have  been 
a.  heavy  oppression  to  the  affectionate  wife,  the  loving 
mother,  the  tender  friend,  and  the  simple-hearted 
woman,  always  more  impatient  of  shams  as  the  testi- 
mony of  a  merely  external  power  not  craved  by  her, 
than  man  is. 

The  women  of  her  day  would  owe  her,  in  behalf 
of  womanhood,  their  thanks,  if  she  had  not  pleased 
herself  more  than  she  could  possibly  please  any 
other,  in  the  purification,  through  her  own  purity  and 
firmness,  of  Court-life  in  her  realm  ;  in  her  persistent 
adherence  to  the  best  persons  who  could  be  drawn  and 
kept  about  her  person  and  family,  in  her  steadfast  and 
efficient  discountenance  of  gossip — the  vice  of  royal 
11* 


250 


WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 


menages  from  time  immemorial,  and  all  the  more  dif- 
ficult, therefore,  to  uproot,  and  in  maintaining  under 
all  circumstances,  so  clear  and  spotless  a  character, 
and  withal  so  individual  a  one  as  "Woman  and  Sov- 
ereign. 

One  sees  clearly  that  only  a  candid,  right-minded 
and  true  woman  could  so  have  sustained  herself 
through  such  a  life,  and  as  clearly  that  her  reward  has 
therefore  come  to  her  without  thanks.  A  genius  for 
personal  goodness,  and  a  disposition  faithfully  to  adhere 
to  the  right,  so  far  as  the  world  will  permit  it  to  be 
done,  are  perhaps  the  happiest  gifts  in  a  monarch, 
King  or  Queen.  These  seem  to  belong  in  an  eminent 
degree  to  Yictoria,  and  the  immense  influence  which, 
as  the  mistress  of  the  highest  and  most  observed  Home 
in  her  realm,  she  wields  in  making  her  family  circle  an 
example  of  social  and  personal  purity,  firm,  wTise  dis- 
cipline, and  wholesome  order,  cannot  fail  to  have  been 
one  of  the  substantial  benefits  of  her  reign — a  strong 
incentive  and  aid  to  the  development  of  those  good 
motives  which  find  their  best  and  most  peaceful  culture 
at  the  fireside  of  a  high-toned,  earnest,  truthful  wife, 
mother,  and  Woman. 

I  have  now,  perhaps,  cited  from  history  and  from 
the  lives  of  living  women,  who  have  not  yet  passed  to 
their  destined  place  in  history,  as  many  illustrations  as 
my  purpose  will  justify  me  in  placing  here.  The 
many,  many  more  demonstrations  of  the  assertion  we 
are  engaged  in  proving,  which  might  be  offered,  would 
burthen  rather  than  aid  the  argument.  I  will  stay, 
therefore,  barely  to  mention,  of  the  women  of  our 
day,  and  of  the  preceding  generation,  a  few  others 
whose  names  will  suggest  to  the  reader  that  were  I  to 
extend  this  branch  of  evidence  through  the  whole  of 


HI8T0EIC    ABGTCENT.  251 

this  volume,  a  great  deal  more  would  still  be  left  un- 
said than  could  be  said  or  even  hinted  at.  Thus  con- 
sider the  names  and  history  of  Joanna  Baillie  and  her 
sister;  Hannah  More,  Mrs.  Sherwood, Miss Edgeworth, 
Miss  Austin,  Miss  Burney,  Mrs.  Piozzi,  Mrs.  Siddons, 
Madame  de  Stael,  Lady  Franklin,  Miss  Mitford, 
Madame  Dudevant,  Grace  Darling,  Mary  Lamb, 
Mrs.  Jameson,  Miss  Herschel,  Mrs.  Norton,  Miss  Mar- 
tineau,  our  own  venerable  Lucretia  Mutt,  Mrs.  Child, 
Mrs.  Chisholm,  Mrs.  Taylor,  a  highly  valued  teacher 
of  British  navigators,  Mrs.  Patten,  who  sailed  her  hus- 
band's ship  from  Cape  Horn  to  San  Francisco,  Miss 
Mitchell,  the  American  Astronomer,  Mary  Howitt, 
Frederika  Bremer,  Miss  Muloch,  Miss  Evans,  Miss  Shep- 
hard,  Miss  Sedgwick,  Lucy  Stone,  Anna  Dickinson — 
and  the  reader  will  doubtless  remember,  as  I  do,  scores 
of  names,  some  more  brilliant,  and  all  equally  worthy 
to  be  noted,  which  I  must  not  stay  to  set  down  here. 

If  it  be  true,  as  no  one,  I  apprehend,  will  deny,  that 
many  of  these  women  have  proved  the  noblest  possi- 
1,'ilii'u r  of  life  for  themselves,  and  helped  others  to 
realise  theirs,  as  not  many  of  the  men  of  even  more 
brilliant  intellect  have  aimed  to  do,  it  is  no  less  true 
that  there  are  great  numbers  of  the  best  women,  the 
most  faithful  and  aspiring,  whom  neither  fame  nor  his- 
tory lays  hold  upon  in  any  manner.  We  all  know 
some  such — one  or  two,  if  no  more — or  we  are  particu- 
larly unfortunate  in  our  acquaintance  with  women, 
and  ought  to  begin  to  redress  ourselves  at  once,  in 
seeking  higher  relations.  In  our  country  at  least  one 
good  woman,  pure  in  heart,  lowi ng  progress  for  herself 
mid  others,  willing  to  work  for  it,  who  can  be  relied 
on  always  to  speak  her  highest  word,  to  counsel  the 
unselfish  deed,  to  turn  her  face  away  from  the  politic 


252  WOMAN    AND    HER    EKA. 

and  worldly  side  (which  are  so  often  the  really  unmanly 
and  unwomanly  side)  of  any  question  to  be  decided,  or 
any  measure  to  be  taken,  and  bring  to  notice  something 
more  worthy — at  least  one  such  woman  is,  I  repeat, 
within  the  reach  of  almost  any  man  or  woman  who 
desires  her  acquaintance.  If  you  do  not  already  know 
her,  seek  her — find  her ;  she  will  bring  you  nearer  to 
yourself  and  to  God.  In  your  trials  she  will  be  a  more 
living  preacher  to  you  than  dull  formalists  in  the  pul- 
pit— in  your  sufferings  a  wiser  physician  than  he  who 
will  diagnose  and  medicate  only  your  body,  forgetting 
the  while  that  there  is  a  soul  within  it ;  for  your  high 
needs  a  more  helpful  friend  than  all  the  devotees  of 
the  world  and  its  pleasures  and  successes,  whom  you 
can  know,  though  the  sweep  of  your  circle  include 
hundreds  of  such. 

For  reasons  stated  in  the  opening  of  this  section, 
history  is  not  often  happy  in  its  treatment  of  females, 
be  they  never  so  rich  in  the  pure  womanliness,  whose 
presence  would  make  them  weighty  witnesses  in  our 
cause.  If  a  woman  is  only  or  chiefly  a  woman,  though 
she  behave  sublimely  as  such,  her  conduct  and  claims 
are  settled  by  most  historians  in  an  admiring  para- 
graph or  two — at  most  in  a  few  pages,  and  she  is 
henceforth  lost  sight  of.  Because  history,  as  I  have 
before  said,  is  made  up  of  external  details  and  state- 
ments— the  signs  and  evidences — often  misread — of  the 
unseen,  interior  motives  which  move  and  control  life. 
It  therefore  offers  little  analysis  of  character,  and  no  real 
solution  of  questions,  to  the  student  of  human  nature 
If  it  attempts  to  do  either,  it  is  in  the  treatment  of 
men,  and  of  the  few  women  wrho  have  acted  more  or 
less  the  parts  which  commonly  fall  to  men,  and  who 
are  therefore  recognized  less  as  women  than  as  mon- 


HISTORIC   ARGUMENT.  253 

archs,  diplomatists,  or  intriguers.  Their  womanhood 
is  more  or  less  laid  clown  or  overlooked  by  the  wri- 
ters, and  their  skill  or  power  only  acknowledged,  which 
often  might  as  well  have  been  a  man's  as  theirs.  The 
manlike  women,  Elizabeth  of  England,  and  Catharine 
of  Russia,  (I  name  them  as  rulers,  not  as  women,  having 
a  lively  and  grateful  appreciation  of  their  differing 
natures),  are  amply  recorded,  but  mostly  for  what  is 
manlike  in  them — their  successful  exercise  of  external 
power,  their  large  participation  in  masculine  action — 
their  brave,  and  often  triumphant  competition  with 
Kings  and  Emperors  for  goods  which  men  crave,  and 
appreciate  a  keen,  determined  struggle  in  man  or 
woman  to  acquire.  But  while  they  lived,  and  fought, 
and  ruled,  there  were  to  be  found  on  the  earth,  women 
of  as  great  or  even  greater  ability  than  they  possessed, 
coupled  with  the  true  nature  of  their  sex — not  ambi- 
tious, but  aspiring — careless  of  external  greatness,  but 
keenly  alive  to  the  true  inner  greatness — the  Godlike 
expansion  of  soul  that  could  calmly  reject  worldly 
power  while  diligently  cultivating  the  interior  clearness 
of  vision  that  would  discover  its  insufficiency  for  them. 
Life  must  give  Woman  a  theater,  and  history  must 
rise  above  wars  and  diplomacy,  and  concern  itself  with 
human  progress  in  its  finer  and  subtler  leadings — must 
ascend,  in  short,  to  the  plane  of  psychical  motives  and 
forces,  where  she  has  her  stage  of  influences,  before 
it  can  furnish  testimony  at  once  copious  and  just  of  her 
life  and  powers. 


CHAPTER     IV. 

POPULAE  SENTIMENT  AND  COMMON 
OBSERVATION. 

Section  I. 

The   Testimony   of  Man's   Sentiment  touching  the 
Rank  of  Woman. 

Having  thus  far  shown,  according  to  my  ability 
and  opportunity,  the  grounds  of  appeal  to  Mythology, 
to  the  Scriptural  Theology,  to  Art  and  History  in 
behalf  of  Woman,  I  proceed  to  the  broader  and  more 
fertile  field  which  is  most  conveniently  designated  by  the 
caption  to  this  chapter,  the  Popular  Sentiment  and 
Common  Observation  of  Humanity,  with  regard  to  her. 

Much  of  these  are  already  shown  in  the  Arts,  which 
the  People  revere ;  in  the  Poetry,  which  they  receive 
and  love  because  it  illustrates  more  perfectly  than  any 
form  of  expression  which  they  can  command,  their 
own  thoughts  and  feelings :  and  in  the  Annals  of  Life, 
which,  whatever  their  errors  and  poverty,  the  People 
accept  as  authentic,  because  they  contain  so  much 
truth,  as  to  persons  and  events,  that  there  is  greater 
profit  in  having  only  them,  (till  better  come),  than  in 
being  without  any. 

Human  Sentiment  is,  before  all  forms  of  its  ex- 
pression ;  and  Sculpture,  Painting,  Poetry,  and  Music, 


POPULAR   SENTIMENT  AND   OBSERVATION.  255 

the  Arts  which  serve  its  highest  attained  development 
in  this  life,  have  their  appeal  to  ns  in  confirming,  not 
contradicting    it — in    verifying,    not   setting  aside    or 
denying  those  truths  and  ideas  which  the  daily  and 
hourly  observation    of  Men   and   Women   testify,  of 
themselves    and   of  the  world  of  objects   and   forces 
around  them.     The  Arts  spring  from  Human  Senti- 
ment as  a  stream  from  its  fountain,  and  must  as  neces- 
sarily exhibit  its  qualities ;  and  they  inspire  us  with 
their  nobility,  command  our  admiration  and  kindle  our 
emotions  or  passions  so  far  as,  in  their  treatment  of 
human  life,  they  express  or  suggest  its  interior  as  well 
as  its  outward  properties  and  traits.     Hence  Sculpture 
is  colder  than  Painting,  Painting  than  Poetry,  in  the 
perfect  languages  ;  Poetry  than  Music.    The  inflexible 
and  ungracious  Marble  will  neither  receive  nor  reflect 
the   Spirit,  as  colors  may.     If  Pygmalion  had  been 
Beethoven,  a  goddess  had  not  been  necessary  to  put  a 
soul  into  his  work.     He  would  have  found  a  portion 
of  his  own  there.      The  mechanical   character  of  his 
Art  is  further  felt  in  its  working  tozvard,  instead  of 
from,  a  center — the  reverse  of  all  spiritual  outgrowth 
and  creation.     A  stroke  too  much,  and  perfection  falls 
a  >acrifice  at  the  feet  of  the  artist.     Hence  Sculpture 
will  never,  I  think,  become  so  ready  an  Art  to  Woman, 
or  be  so  beloved  of  her  as  of  Man,  whose  less  subtile 
nature  will  not  so  often  feel  itself  fettered  in  the  un- 
yielding stone.  But  this  by  the  way.     To  return  to  the 
line  of  our  argument. 

The  acceptance,  through  the  Ages,  of  the  ideas  and 
truths  conveyed  by  any  Art  is  unimpeachable  testimony 
to  their  verity.  They  could  only  exist  through  their 
truth,  and  could  only  be  true  by  being,  centrally,  if  not 
in  their  length,  breadth,  and  detail,  one  with  the  senti- 


256  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

ment  and  observation  of  Mankind  on  these  subjects. 
Thus  Painting  could  not  give  Woman  the  lineaments 
of  an  angel,  and  serious,  elevated  Poetry  could  not 
address  her  as  angelic  or  divine,  if  in  doing  so,  they 
outraged  our  common  perception  of  her  nature,  as  com- 
pared with  that  of  man.  We  feel  no  levity  in  such 
recognition  of  her.  No  sentiment  is  shocked  or  pained 
by  it,  but  on  the  contrary,  when  the  lover,  be  he  artist, 
poet,  or  philosopher,  attributes  to  her  a  higher  purity 
and  divinity,  we  feel,  in  his  expression,  a  joy  which  is 
deep  and  sacred  in  proportion  to  the  depth  and  sacred- 
ness — otherwise  the  reality  and  earnestness  of  the  per- 
ception and  belief  in  him,  from  which  his  utterance 
springs.  And  there  is  one  form  in  which  this  senti- 
ment of  man  flows  more  or  less  into  every  woman's  life. 
It  may  have  but  a  transient  utterance.  It  may  even 
be  quickly  followed  by  hard,  abrupt,  cold  and  cruel,  or 
brutal,  denial.  It  may  come  to  her  but  once  only  in 
her  life — in  that  most  sacred  hour  when  a  heart  and 
life  are  laid  down  for  her  acceptance,  or  she  is  besought 
to  take  them  into  her-keeping  and  guidance — to  become 
their  sovereign.  It  may  be  like  the  swift  gleam  of  sun- 
shine that  descends  in  an  Autumn  day  through  a  rift  in  its 
black  cloud-continent,  which  closes  so  quickly,  that  ere 
you  are  aware,  all  is  darkness  again.  But  however  it 
comes,  how  brief  soever  its  stay,  it  enters  into  her  soul, 
whence  it  can  never  wholly  vanish  away,  except  before 
the  grim  presence  of  vice  and  degradation. 

Every  woman  that  is  born  cannot  look  upon  the 
pictures  of  Raphael  or  Guido,  Giorgione  or  Correggio, 
Reynolds  or  Ivneller ;  nor  read  the  verse  of  Spenser, 
Petrarch,  Shelley,  or  Wordsworth ;  but  every  woman 
who  preserves  her  self-respect  has,  once  in  her  day,  if 
never  again,  a  lover,  who  declares  that  she  is  to  lead 


POPULAR    SENTIMENT   AND    OBSERVATION.  257 

him  to  better  and  nobler  things  than  lie  has  yet  attained 
to — nay,  that  already  she  has  clone  this,  that  the 
thought  of  her  has  molded  him  to  higher  desires — 
shamed  him  from  low  and  gross  indulgences — made  the 
light  and  coarse  speech  of  former  companions  seem  a 
profanation  of  womanhood,  which  he  has  come  to  revere 
in  her  if  he  were  incapable  of  it  before ;  that  he  needs 
her  for  his  own  redemption — that  with  her  all  good 
seems  possible,  without  her  nothing  but  desolation, 
weariness,  and  even  ruin.  From  the  polished  man  of 
the  world,  to  the  boor — from  the  elegant  scholar,  to  the 
hob-nailed  peasant,  the  varieties  of  expression  in  which 
this  sentiment  clothes  itself,  are  well  known. 

"  I  arise  from  dreams  of  thee, 

In  the  first  sweet  sleep  of  night, 
"When  the  winds  are  breathing  low 

And  the  stars  are  shining  bright. 
I  arise  from  dreams  of  thee, 

And  a  spirit  in  my  feet 
Has  led  me — who  knows  how  ? 

To  thy  chamber-window,  sweet. 

"  The  wandering  airs,  they  faint 

On  the  dark,  the  silent  stream, 
The  champak  odors  fail, 

Like  SAveet  thoughts  in  a  dream. 
The  nightingale's  complaint, 

It  dies  upon  her  heart, 
As  I  must  die  on  thine, 

0  beloved  as  thou  art!  "* 

And  this  same  loving,  reverent  soul  wrote   else- 
where these  lines  : 

"  Seraph  of  Heaven !  too  gentle  to  be  human, 
Tailing  beneath  that  radiant  form  of  woman 


*  Shelley. 


258  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

All  that  is  unsupportable  in  thee 

Of  light  and  love  and  immortality  ! 

Sweet  benediction  in  the  eternal  curse  ! 

Vailed  glory  of  this  lampless  universe  ! 

Thou  moon  beyond  the  clouds  !  thou  living  form 

Among  the  dead!  thou  star  above  the  storm  ! 

In  whom,  as  in  the  splendor  of  the  sun, 

All  shapes  look  glorious  which  thou  gazest  on  ! 

I  pray  thee  that  thou  blot  from  this  sad  song, 

All  of  its  sweet  mortality  and  wrong, 

With  those  clear  drops,  which  start  like  sacred  dew 

From  the  twin  lights  thy  sweet  soul  darkens  through." 

Here  is  another  lover  who  prays  like  this  poet,  in 
other  and  less  elegant  phrase  truly,  but  no  less  earn- 
estly, that  somewhat  of  the  mortality  and  wrong  may 
be  blotted  from  him  by  the  woman  he  loves.  "  And 
when  I  say  I  love  'ee,  I  beant  said  all — no  not  all, 
Joanna.  I  tell  'ee  there  be  summat  in  thee,  girl,  bet- 
ter'n  what's  in  me,  great  big-bone  fellow,"  stretching 
out  with  the  words  his  huge  arm,  that  she  might  see 
its  strength,  and  wiping  the  dew  of  earnestness  from 
his  craggy  features ;  "  an'  I  want  thee,  Joanna,  t'help 
me  along  up  to  thee." 

Did  Joanna  ever  think,  whatever  her  love  for  this 
strong,  reverent-hearted  man,  of  his  helping  her  up  in 
the  same  way  ?  Certainly  not !  No  woman  who  is 
good  enough  to  kindle  such  a  sentiment  in  a  man,  ever 
does.  She  looks  to  him  for  something  assuredly ;  for 
love  which  she  craves,  for  kindness,  a  measure  of  sym- 
pathy, and  for  worldly  support,  but  not  for  incentives 
to  a  better  and  more  unworldly  life.  She  knows  that 
these  must  come  from  herself. 

"  When  I  approach  you,"  wrote  a  gifted  man  whose 
name  the  world  acknowledges,  to  the  woman  he  loved, 
"I  rise  into  a  purer  atmosphere.  All  that  is  sordid  or 
selfish  in  me  shrinks  away,  rebuked,  from  yonr  pres- 


POPULAR    SENTIMENT    AND    OBSERVATION.  259 

ence,  and  I  am  shamed  at  the  memory  of  plans  and 
schemes  which  I  stay  neither  to  approve  nor  condemn 
till  the  clear,  calm,  heavenly  purity  in  your  eye,  look- 
ing through  me,  brings  me  to  measure  myself  and 
them,  by  a  standard  which  I  find  nowhere  else.  For- 
give me  if  in  aspiring  to  companionship  with  you,  who 
are  so  much  nobler  and  more  unselfish  than  I  am,  I 
acknowledge  that  love  is  not  the  only  motive.  What 
is  the  other  ?  you  ask,  since  you  have  neither  fortune 
nor  the  recognized  social  position,  which  the  world  as 
often  commends  as  censures  a  man,  for  seeking  exclu- 
sively, in  marriage.  I  will  tell  you,  dearest :  I  heartily 
desire  help  to  become  a  truer  man.  I  pray  for  a  hand 
that  will  draw  me  from  the  current  to  which  years  ago 
i  surrendered  myself,  and  which  is  now  bearing  me 
almost  irresistibly  on,  to  a  goal  that  in  my  heart  I 
despise.  You  have  consented  to  extend  me  yours,  and 
in  my  soul  I  devoutly  thank  you.  Believe  that  I  speak 
these  words  in  the  earnestness  of  my  nature,  and  come 
to  nry  soul,  with  yours  held  strong  and  high  for  my 
rescue." 

When  a  man  of  common  stamp  loves  earnestly  a 
good  woman  of  his  own  class,  one  of  the  first  outward 
evidences  of  it  is  the  desire  to  shake  off  some  coarse  or 
vicious  habit  or  degrading  association.  How  often  are 
the  appetites  temporarily  checked ;  the  exalted  action 
of  the  whole  nature,  no  doubt,  helping  to  these  alas  !  too 
often  perishable,  spasmodic  movements  toward  purifi- 
cation, but  the  sense  of  approaching  a  purer  life,  and 
the  desire  to  make  self  fit  to  meet  and  mingle  with  it, 
being  the  first,  and  remaining  always,  while  they  last, 
the  leading  incentive  to  them. 

Your  neat,  thrifty,  industrious,  good  Ellen,  or  gentle, 
Catholic  Mary,  tells  you,  dropping  her  face  lower  and 


260  WOMAN   AND   HER    ERA. 

lower,  as  yon  inquire  about  her  lover,  that  "he  has 
promised  me,  ma'am,  to  shtop  the  drinkin' ;"  and 
Bridget,  if  you  interest  yourself  in  her  fortunes,  will 
inform  you  that  "  sure  Patrick  thinks  a  dale  too  mieh 
of  me,  ma'am,  for  he  says  he'll  give  up  the  swearin' 
whiniver  I  say  I'll  marry  him." 

The  self-respecting,  bright  Yankee  girl  who  earns 
her  wedding  outfit  in  a  factory,  and  looks  understand- 
ingly  forward  to  a  life  of  hard  work  with  the  man 
whom  she  chooses  for  a  husband,  does  not  like  that  he 
should  defile  his  mouth  and  person  with  tobacco.  It  is 
not  only  offensive  to  her,  but  she  is  sure  that  it  is  inju- 
rious and  degrading  to  him.  "  I  shall  leave  it  off,"  he 
says.  "  I  can  do  it  very  easily,  for  since  I  have  come 
to  think  of  you  so  much,  I  often  forget  it." 

The  man  addicted  to  gaming  or  dissipation  of  any 
sort,  swears  that  it  shall  cease  in  honor  of  her  he  loves. 
He  feels  that  she  is  on  one  side  and  his  degradations  on 
the  other.  They  do  not  belong  together,  and  in  the 
days  of  his  love,  he  would  shudder  at  the  thought  of 
defiling  the  purity  and  good  he  respects  in  her,  by 
familiarizing  her  with  them.  His  low,  loose  conrpanions 
never  looked  so  low  and  gross  to  him,  as  since  he  has 
met  them  occasionally,  fresh  from  her  presence ;  and 
he  secretly  resolves  that  he  will  break  off  from  them. 
He  would  be  pained  and  shamed,  while  his  love  is  in 
its  divine  pkasis,  to  have  her  learn  that  he  ever  mixed 
with  them. 

"  I  long,"  says  a  rough,  hard-handed,  working  man, 
writing  to  a  nobly  cultivated  woman,  whom  he  loved  in 
spite  of  the  wide  social  distance  between  them,  "  to  sit 
down  again  in  your  little  crowded  library  and  listen 
to  your  interpretation  of  those  glorious  old  and  new 
poets  who  always  before  have  seemed  to  me  so  dry  and 


POPULAJBE    SENTIMENT   AND   OBSERVATION.  201 

dead.  You  will  not  be  Offended  I  hope  if  I  tell  you 
that  since  those  days  at  your  house  I  seem  to  have 
come  into  another  world  Everything  is  brighter  and 
more  beautiful  The  skies  look  softer  and  the  moun- 
tains grander.  The  plains  that  I  walked  over  in  coming 
home  never  in  all  my  journeys  showed  me  before  such 
plesant  lights  and  shades  The  Sea  never  seemed  so 
much  like  a  big-Souled  tranquil  companion  as  I  walked 
by  its  side  And  it  was  becaus  they  all  spoke  of  you 
my  good  friend  seemed  to  reflect  you  You  were  if  I 
may  say  it  back  of  each  looking  through  it  upon  me 
and  into  my  life.  You  seemed  to  question  me  through 
them  and  as  I  walked  along  I  saw  myself  plainer  than 
ever  before  All  the  hardness  and  worldliness  and 
eagerness  for  gain  which  I  have  been  indulging  ever 
since  I  was  a  man  stalked  out  before  looking  hateful 
and  mean  as  you  must  see  them  I  am  sure  After  this 
you  will  see  I  must  be  a  better  man  You  preached 
me  a  sermon  not  from  a  bible  text  which  I  shall  never 
forget."  *  *  *  *  " 

The  chirography  of  this  manly  letter  was  very  rude 
and  cramped ;  the  spelling  and  capitalizing,  as  will  be 
seen,  occasionally  at  fault,  punctuating  quite  over- 
looked, but  one  does  not  often  read  epistles  that  furnish, 
in  themselves,  stronger  evidence  of  having  made  their 
way  from  the  deepest  depths  of  the  life  speaking  through 
them.  "  And  what  of  this  man  ?"  I  asked  of  the  woman 
who  showed  me  this  letter,  suppressing  the  name  of 
the  writer,  "  has  the  faith  you  kindled  in  him  remained 
a  living  one  ?" 

"  Yes,"  was  the  reply,  "  it  has,  in  a  thorough  and 
most  satisfactory  sense.  He  has  since  married,  pretty 
well,  I  believe — a  woman  of  his  own  class — and  is  living 
a  sound,  rational,  improving  life  ;  tells  me,  when  1  meet 


262  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

him  occasionally,  that  he  takes  time  for  reading,  and 
evidently  provides  himself  with  the  best  books,  since  I 
find  him  acquainted  with  them.  And  as  his  wife  is  an 
uncultivated  person,  he  will  have  to  act  the  woman's 
part  in  the  best  salvation  of  his  family — the  culture 
and  direction  of  his  children.  He  has  more  than  once 
alluded,  with  irrepressible  signs  of  gratitude  in  his 
eyes,  to  the  experience  which  divorced  him  from  the 
pursuit  of  money  as  a  leading  purpose,  and  showed 
him,  as  he  acknowledges,  higher  and  more  worthy 
objects  in  life." 

Here  are  a  few  lines  from  a  letter  written  years 
ago,  to  a  young  friend  of  mine,  who,  in  the  helpful 
spirit  of  a  true-hearted,  thoughtful  woman,  held,  as 
opportunity  seemed  to  invite  to  it,  an  occasional  earnest 
conversation  with  an  ignorant  but  manly  and  well- 
intentioned  young  mechanic,  who  was  employed  for  a 
time  in  her  mother's  house. 

"I  don't  kno  as  I  shal  be  abel  to  tel  yon,  Miss,  jest 
what  I  do  mean  in  sending  this  letter,  becaus  I  aint 
mutch  ust  to  riting  letters,  spessially  not  to  ladys  an  I 
kno  I've  got  no  rite  too  say  all  I  feal,  if  I  was  abel.  So 
I  shant  go  on  to  tel  you  how  mutch  I  love  to  hear  you 
talk  and  sea  you  look  at  them  yure  talkin  too,  and  the 
good  it  dus  me.  Thoes  good  words  all  took  a  holt  of 
me  I  can  tel  you,  Mis,  and  I  haint  so  mutch  as  looked 
at  a  piece  o'  tobacker  or  a  glass  o'  whiskey  sence  I 
seen  you  last  time,  an  I  don't  bleave  I  shal  ever  want 
to  agin." 

"  I  rise  to  your  presence,"  says  another  man,  "  and 
am  dissatisfied  with  myself  and  the  world  on  leaving 
it,  for  I  feel  that  I  descend  into  outer  and  common 
things  again.  That  I  return  from  you  somewhat  nobler 
after  ray  visit,  I  honestly  believe,  because,  in  the  search- 


POPULAR    SENTIMENT   AND   OBSERVATION.  2G3 

ing  self-analysis  of  these  deep  experiences,  I  find  the 
common,  the  selfish,  and  ambitions  motives  of  former 
days  so  weakened  in  their  hold  upon  the  future,  that  I 
almost  seem  to  see  them  falling  beneath  my  feet.  I, 
who  have  been  so  wedded  to  the  honors  and  goods  of 
the  world.  What  is  the  secret  virtue  in  your  life  and 
speech,  which  shapes  me  thus  ?  Which,  with  never  a 
word  of  preaching,  a  syllable  of  rebuke,  or  a  spark  of 
assumption  that  you  are  the  better  of  us  two,  does 
actually  transform  these  once  ruling  motives  of  my  life 
from  pleasant  and  shining  leaders  to  mean,  unworthy 
tyrants,  whom  I  despise  ?  In  my  wonder  at  my  own 
present  state  of  mind,  I  ask  myself  this  question  so  often 
that  I  am  moved  to  repeat  it  to  you.  Will  you  answer 
it  ?  At  least  give  me  your  view  of  our  present  rela- 
tion, and  tell  me  what  hope  you  see  of  its  perpetuation 
in  the  years  we  are  looking  forward  to." 

Momentous  question  arid  inexpressibly  significant 
prayer  this,  from  the  heart  of  a  man  to  a  woman  !  I 
shall  endeavor  to  answer,  for  those  who  desire  it,  the 
first  in  some  of  the  following  pages. 

A  mem  in  love,  acknowledges  in  the  woman  whom 
he  loves,  the  Mistress  of  his  future  happiness,  and  of  his 
future  good,  so  far  as  his  love  is  worthy  the  name,  and 
its  object  is  a  true  and  grown  woman.  The  word  Mistress 
was,  until  very  recently,  the  one  universally  used  in  ad- 
dressing or  designating  a  beloved  and  honored  woman. 
It  still  prevails  in  the  drama,  where  the  truths  of  passion 
and  emotion  are  intended  to  be  most  strongly  and  purely 
expressed,  and  is  also  retained  by  many  popular  and 
standard  novel  writers.  That  it  is  used  in  the  meaner 
sense  of  expressing  a  degraded  character  and  a  vicious 
relation,  does  not  in  any  degree  detract  from  the  con- 
fession, (implied  in  its  adoption),  of  preponderance  of 


264  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

power  on  the  woman's  side  in  the  pure  and  worthy 
one,  since  no  woman,  however  lowly  or  humble,  ever 
addresses  or  names  the  man  she  loves  as  Master,  because 
she  loves  him.  A  woman  becomes  the  Mistress  of  a 
man,  in  the  grave  sense,  only  through  his  love  for  her, 
but  whatever  her  love  for  him,  or  his  appreciation  and 
love  of  it,  he  would  not  be  pleased  that  she  should 
acknowledge  him  her  Master.  Mastership,  when  it  is 
asserted  or  confessed,  is  never  from  love,  or  for  its  sake. 
That  state  of  the  relation,  if  it  ever  appear,  is  reserved 
for  a  later  day — a  dimmer  and  less  divine  one — a  day 
when  the  co-working  of  common,  external,  and  earthly 
motives,  makes  it  easy  to  apostatize  from  the  divine 
inner  truth  of  the  soul. 

We  delight  in  the  sense  of  a  man's  lotaett  to  a 
woman,  while  he  is  her  lover.  Kow  loyalty  is  the  sen- 
timent of  the  heart  toward  a  superior,  and  could  only 
please  us  when  expressed  in  harmony  with  our  percep- 
tion of  the  qualities  of  the  natures  giving  and  receiving 
it.  It  would  offend  or  disgust  us  to  see  the  higher 
paying  loyalty  to  the  lower.  But  that  which  is  a  cha- 
racterizing trait  of  woman's  love — perhaps  the  trait 
which  men  most  admire,  and  take  pride  in  finding 
exhibited  towards  themselves,  is  Devotion,  the  opposite 
of  loyalty.  In  the  human  relations  devotion  is  exhi- 
bited toward  an  object  who  is  either  less  happy  and 
fortunate,  or  intrinsically  less  exalted  and  worthy  than 
the  person  showing  it ;  and  its  greatness  and  depth  are 
in  the  inverse  proportion  of  these  circumstances  or 
qualities  in  its  object. 

I  am  aware  that  this  definition  is  not  in  accordance 
with  the  lexicons,  but  I  do  not  think  the  authorities 
have  treated  all  words  exhaustively  as  to  the  meanings 
which  mankind  employ  them  to  express.    And  I  believe 


POPULAR    SENTIMENT   AND  OBSERVATION.  265 

the  common  heart  of  woman  and  mankind  will  consent 
to  this  use  of  a  most  noble  word — the  more,  that  there 
is  no  other  in  nse  among  the  people,  which  so  well  ex- 
presses the  spiritual  phenomena  often  seen  and  expe- 
rienced by  them  in  their  human  relations.  We  do  not 
call  that  a  devoted  love  which  makes  its  subject  only, 
or  chiefly,  happy.  The  devotee  is  one  bound  by  a 
vow — a  high  sense  of  duty — an  overruling  obligation 
to  pay  the  devotion,  the  care,  the  love,  whatever  be  the 
pain  thereof;  the  greater  the  pain,  the  greater  the 
devotion. 

Thus,  a  noble,  loving  parent  exhibits  devotion  to  a 
degraded,  irreclaimable  child,  whose  persistent  de- 
pravity has  destroyed  all  hope  of  returning  love  and 
compensatory  tenderness.  A  friend  proves  his  or  her 
devotion,  in  faithful  and  uncalculating  adherence  to 
one  once  beloved,  who  has  degenerated,  or  fallen  into  a 
condition  of  disgrace.  A  wife  shows  her  devotion  to 
an  oppressive,  cruel,  brutal,  drunken,  or  unfortunate 
and  spirit-broken  husband — a  tender  husband  to  a  care- 
less, selfish,  unloving  or  profligate  wife,  though  human 
experience  does  not  so  often  furnish  man,  as  woman, 
opportunities  for  illustrating  nobleness  in  this  experi- 
ence. 

There  are  other  ways  in  which  this  capacity  of  the 
nature  proves  itself,  as  where  one  loves  another,  and 
the  affection  maintains  itself  persistently  against  cold- 
ness, neglect,  and  even  scorn ;  or,  where  we  devote 
ourselves  to  humanity,  through  certain  labors  and 
causes  which  are  identical  with  its  growth  and  good. 
In  the  former  case,  there  will  be  somewhat  that  is 
lower,  in  the  nature,  whether  man  or  woman,  which 
permits  the  devotion  to  continue  fruitlessly  ;  in  that, 
if  it  cannot  return  love  for  love,  it  does  not  tenderly 
12 


266  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

and  carefully,  and  with  such  wisdom  and  firmness  as 
it  may,  attempt  to  heal  the  wound  of  its  giving ;  to 
build  up  strength  on  another  side,  and  lead  the  suffer- 
ing life  out  in  other  directions,  whereby  the  unprofita- 
ble sentiment  might  be  supplanted.  In  the  latter,  it 
is  easy  to  see  that  those  only  can  devote  themselves  to 
humanity,  who  are,  at  the  lowest,  so  far  above  its  level, 
that  they  look  down  on  some  real  or  imaginary  want 
of  it,  which  they  hope  to  supply — see,  in  short,  that  it 
needs  help  from  them. 

Loyalty  is  the  tribute  of  the  lower  to  the  higher ;  it 
flows  toward  what  it  reverences,  and  at  the  same  time 
sustains,  by  service  which  it  recognizes  as  dutifully, 
naturally  paid,  hecause  the  servitor  is  the  inferior  of  the 
served.  Subjects  are  loyal  to  a  monarch,  and  joyfully 
submit  to  hardship  and  defilement  of  their  persons  in 
menial  labors  (when  necessary)  for  him,  which  they 
would  feel  grief  and  shame  in  seeing  him  perform  for 
himself.  Soldiers  suffer  and  die  for  their  leader,  but 
are  unwilling  that  he  should  descend  to  the  common 
service  of  the  field.  Their  loyalty  is  wounded  if  he 
expose  himself  to  the  inferior  dangers  or  vulgar  toils 
which  they  feel  to  be  unworthy  of  his  exalted  relation 
to  them. 

Thus,  laying  down  all  externals,  it  is  clear  that 
loyalty  is  commanded  by  the  qualities  of  a  nature  or 
position  superior  to  those  which  render  it ;  while  it  is 
equally  clear  that  devotion  proceeds  freely  out  from 
qualities  which  recognize  in  its  object  an  inferior,  in  so 
far,  at  least,  as  there  is  need  of  service,  of  a  quality 
which  it  cannot  render  itself.  Thus  it  is  that  political 
loyalty  becomes  devotion,  whenever  the  person  or  for- 
tunes of  its  object  become  so  degenerate  that  the  ori- 
ginal relation  between  giver  and  receiver  is  reversed. 


POPULAR   SENTIMENT   AND   OBSERVATION.  2G7 

Now  I  know  that  in  the  established  relations 
between  woman  and  man,  there  often  arrives  a  time 
when  the  order  here  indicated  as  natural,  seems,  and 
among  superficial,  common-place  people,  actually 
comes  to  be,  so  far  reversed  that  we  hear  the  loyalty  of 
the  wife  spoken  of,  though  rarely  the  devotion,  in  any 
high,  earnest  sense,  of  the  husband.  It  is  not  a  reversal 
to  each  party,  but  only  to  the  woman,  from  whom  both 
loyalty  and  devotion  are  expected,  after  marriage  has 
pvi  her  in  mail's  possession,  either  as  a  chattel  or  a  sub- 
ject. We  shall  be  better  able  to  estimate  the  justness 
of  the  position  thus  imposed  on  her,  if  we  remember 
the  fact  that  our  present  system  of  marriage,  whatever 
its  merits  or  defects,  is  purely  of  Man's  contrivance ;  and 
we  shall  see  how  much  more  respect  is  due  to  the 
authority  of  the  natural  sentiments  shown  by  each  sex 
while  in  a  state  of  freedom,  previous  to  it,  than  to  the 
expression  or  usage  of  either,  after  they  have  entered 
into  this  relation — of  which  the  elements  only  are  na- 
tural— all  its  features,  of  authority  on  one  side  and 
submission  on  the  other,  of  transientness  and  dura- 
bility, being  defined  by  laws  of  purely  masculine 
origin."- 


*  In  answer  to  the  statement  which  may  be  set  against  this, 
that  marriage  is  of  Divine  origin,  a  sacrament,  and  therefore 
indissoluble,  it  is  only  necessary  to  point  to  late  facts  in  the  social 
and  civil  development  of  the  States  and  Nations  which  the  world 
acknowledges  as  its  leaders.  In  many  of  these,  the  movements 
of  the  last  quarter  of  a  century,  but  especially  those  of  the  past 
ten  years,  mark  a  line  of  progress  in  the  opposite  direction.  I 
offer  neither  comment  nor  opinion  here  on  these  facts,  it  being  out 
of  the  question  to  do  so  much  as  lift  my  eyes,  at  this  stage  of  my 
argument  for  woman,  to  the  vast  and  chaotic  field  toward  which 
they  point.  It  is  unquestionable  however,  and  I  suggest  no  new 
theory  in  stating  it,  that  the  necessity  of  remodeling  or  creating 


2GS  WOMAN    AND    HER    EEA. 

If  it  be  urged  that  the  sentiment  shown  in  the 
above  extracts  and  statements  is  that  of  men  in  love, 
and  therefore  not  to  be  trusted  in  proof  of  nature,  or  of 
mankind,  I  reply  that  no  sentiment  is  more  reliable  for 
the  expression  of  primal  truths,  or  the  indication  of 
real  qualities  in  the  life  whence  they  flow,  than  that  of 
those  rare  and  holy  experiences — I  will  not  say  in 
noble,  but  in  average  men  and  women. 

According  to  their  capacity  to  aspire  or  hope 
for  a  better  life  than  they  have  before  lived,  men 
uniformly  look  to  the  woman  they  love,  to  aid 
them  in  realizing  it.*  They  expect  help  from  her. 
They  plan  the  surrender  of  some  indulgences  which 
their  own  self-respect  has  permitted,  but  which  their 
respect  for  her  greater  purity  and  refinement  makes 


divorce  laws  is  growing  more  urgent  in  all  the  Protestant  and 
progressive  countries,  and  that  wherever  it  is  yielded  to,  the  move- 
ment is  uniformly  toward  granting  liberation  from  the  honds  [a 
cord,  a  chain,  a  rope — see  Webster]  of  ill-assorted  or  unhappy 
marriage. 

*  To  this  statement,  with  the  limitations  here  given,  the  single 
exception  which  now  occurs  to  me,  is  that  of  highly  intellectual 
men — men  who  live  in  the  intellect  alone,  or  chiefly;  or,  worse 
still,  in  the  intellect  and  passions.  Of  this  order  are  many  emi- 
nent Statesmen,  Diplomatists,  Legislators,  Jurists,  Advocates, 
Physicians,  Clergymen,  Men  of  Science  and  of  Letters ;  but  very 
few  Artists,  Discoverers,  or  illustrious  Inventors;  these  latter 
callings  drawing  men  more  into  communion  with  primary  truth, 
than  with  the  secondary  truths,  falsities,  or  errors  with  which  the 
former  familiarize  their  followers;  and  being,  therefore,  more 
favorable  to  the  preservation  of  natural  sentiment  in  the  charac- 
ter. That  men  of  distinguished,  manlike  intellect  have  been  very 
apt  to  marry  silly  and  pretty,  or  cold  and  stately,  or  managing  and 
brilliant  wives,  is  not  less  notorious  than  that  they  have  been  apt 
to  leave  behind  them  children  who  are  content  to  reflect,  without 
adding  to  the  luster  of  the  naiye  they  bear. 


POPULAE    SENTIMENT   AND  OBSEBVATJON.  269 

tliem  hesitate  or  feel  ashamed  of  continuing  ;  and  they 
tell  her  of  their  good  purposes,  if  taste  or  delicacy  do 
not  forbid,  expecting  to  be  smiled  upon  like  a  good 
child — perhaps  praised  a  little  for  it :  certainly  thanked. 
If  they  feel  weak  or  weary  in  endeavoring  to  keep 
themselves  always  to  the  right  against  the  temptations 
that  beset  them,  they  look  to  woman's  higher  and 
purer  strength  as  a  rest,  which  they  shall  reach  and  be 
blessed  in,  by-and-by.  She  will  decide,  he  thinks,  when 
he  is  at  a  loss,  and  having  led  the  way,  will  always  be 
in  it,  an  attraction  to  draw  him  thither.  He  always 
feels  supported  in  some  new  faithfulness  to  convictions 
he  has  before  neglected,  (for  which  he  is  perhaps  laughed 
at  by  those  unused  to  such  behavior  in  him),  by  the 
thought  of  her,  and  her  warm  sympathy  and  approval. 

"  The  whole,  low  world  of  pleasure  and  sense  in 
which  I  have  lived,"  said  a  strong  man  once  to  a  woman 
whom  he  worshiped,  "  seems  at  moments  when  I  am 
near  you,  or  recall  you  vividly,  to  turn  to  dust  and 
ashes  beneath  my  feet.  God  is  my  witness,  that  at 
such  times,  no  other  feeling  is  possible  toward  it  but 
one  of  unmixed  scorn  and  loathing;  and  all  because  of 
you,  and  the  thought  of  you  :  which  is  sufficient  to 
suggest  and  supply  me  with  something  so  much 
nobler."  Alas  !  that  such  influences  should  so  often 
wither  and  vanish  away  before  they  accomplish  their 
divine  work  of  redemption  ! 

Thus  much  of  the  sentiment  of  man  (as  a  lover) 
touching  the  spiritual  superiority  of  woman.  How 
does  woman  answer  it?  She  uses,  we  know,  no  such 
language  toward  him,  however  deeply  and  unreservedly 
she  may  love  him.  She  has  seldom  to  propose  to  her- 
self a  reform  from  any  vicious  or  gross  habit,  because 
of  this  new  and  stirring  experience.   It  is  oftener  seen  to 


270  WOMA^    AK1>    HER    ERA. 

be,  in  some  degree,  the  reverse,  and  that  so  far  as  she 
lets  his  control  supersede  self-control,  and  his  influence 
lead  her  away  from  herself,  she  leaves,  in  so  doing,  the 
pure,  orderly,  tranquil  habits  of  her  previous  years,  and 
takes  on,  in  conformity  to  his  wishes,  slight  if  not  seri- 
ous irregularities,  dissipations  or  light  habits,  which 
have  led  him  a  long  distance,  it  may  be,  from  the  point 
in  his  life  where  it  was  as  well  regulated  and  balanced 
as  hers  is.  If  he  looks  to  her  to  be  himself  improved 
and  regenerated  in  respect  to  the  things  wherein  he 
condemns  himself,  she  does  not  look  to  him  for  the 
same  or  similar  blessing  and  help.  Something,  cer- 
tainly, she  does  expect  from  him,  as  I  have  said,  which 
is  much — very  much — to  her,  but  not  this ;  nor  often 
anything  like  this.  And  she  feels  so  much  reality  in 
the  grounds  on  which  he  claims  it  of  her,  that  if  she 
smiles  at  seeing  herself  addressed  as  an  angel  or  the 
angelic  creature  who  is,  somehow,  to  get  it  accom- 
plished, it  is  not  a  smile  of  levity,  or  derision,  or  unbe- 
lief, but  rather  one  which  expresses  deep  and  serious 
happiness  that  her  soul  has  taken  its  prize  in  the  arena 
of  life;  and  the  task  that  comes  along  with  it  is  sweet 
to  her,  not  alone  because  of  the  love  she  gives  and 
receives,  but  because  in  the  loving,  somewhat  of  the 
divinest  action  of  her  divinest  capabilities  as  a  savior, 
is  called  for.  Her  own  sense  of  truth,  if  she  be  not 
utterly  unintuitional  or  conscious  of  some  grave,  re- 
peated or  willful  derelictions,  is  not  outraged  in  the 
imputation  to  her  of  angelic  qualities.  For  by  such 
language  she  understands  her  lover  to  mean  what,  by 
comparison  with  himself,  she  knows  is  true,  her  greater 
purity,  refinement,  and  delicacy  of  nature,  with  a  cor- 
respondent deeper  love  of,  and  attraction  to,  all  that  is 
related  to  these  beautiful  attributes.    At  least,  so  much 


POPULAR    SENTIMENT   AND  OBSERVATION.  271 

is  meant,  and  perhaps  something  more,  which  we  shall 
find  under  succeeding  heads  of  this  argument.  If  she 
be  a  true,  worthy  woman,  with  the  deep,  religious 
heart  that  belongs  to  such  an  one,  she  hopes,  in  the 
humility  of  her  soul,  that  she  shall  justify  this  great 
faith  in  herself — shall  prove  her  angel-nature  to  him 
who  affirms  it,  in  doing  him  the  good  he  prays  for  at 
her  hand.*     [Please  read  the  note  below.] 

All  that  he  makes  personal  to  her,  she  feels  to  be 
true  of  womanhood,  if  not  of  herself,  and  therefore 
never  denies  it ;  for,  according  to  the  depths  that  are 
moved  by  the  love  appealing  to  her,  she  more  or  less 
yearns  to  excel  the  truth  of  her  sex,  rather  than  fall 
short  of  it.  So  she  takes  his  words  of  adoration  earn- 
estly, or,  if  with  chiding,  it  is  more  in  fondness  than 
sharpness,  and  in  her  heart  prays  that  it  may  be 
even  so. 

But  think  of  reversing  this  language  in  its  applica- 
tion, and  addressing  it  to  man !  How  foolish,  how 
absurd,  how  shocking  to  taste  would  it  be !  How  would 
it  offend  and  disgust  him  !  How  incapable  would  any 
woman  be  of  writing  or  speaking  seriously  to  a  man  in 
such   a  strain,  except  in  those  peculiar  and  very  rare 

*  There  is  grave  difficulty  in  stating,  in  an  acceptable  man- 
ner, or  even,  as  above,  in  hinting,  at  the  real  nature  of  Woman, 
arising  from  its  very  general  perversion  through  miseducation, 
slavery  or  dependence,  or  all  these  combined.  But  I  cannot  sacri- 
fice what  I  feel  to  be  truths  of  Woman  to  accommodate  my  state- 
ments to  any  standard  of  false  development,  prejudice,  or  false 
judgment  of  women.  All  these  being  temporary  effects  of  tem- 
porary causes,  must  in  time  disappear,  and  the  true  Woman  will 
be  commonly  seen,  as  now  she  rarely  is — so  rarely,  indeed,  that 
I  can  scarcely  expect  all  readers  to  recognize  her  portrait,  even 
were  it  much  more  perfect  than  the  broken  lineaments  of  her 
which  I  now  present  to  them. 


272  WOMAN    AND    HER    EX  A. 

cases,  whose  extreme  infrequency  proves  that  their  op- 
posite is  the  uniform  experience  of  mankind.  Even  his 
materiel,  and  the  most  obvious  of  his  mental  and 
spiritual  faculties  forbid  it.  Conceive  the  utter  falsity 
of  addressing  a  bearded,  booted — perhaps  bald — col- 
lared and  cravatted  man,  as  an  angel !  His  eye  is  full 
of  the  resolution  of  external  conquest  and  worldly  suc- 
cess. In  the  expression  of  his  face  are  mingled  the 
sense  of,  and  the  desire  for,  external  power ;  intellectual 
acuteness,  the  challenge  to  competitors,  the  alert,  per- 
sistent self-defense,  the  complacency  of  attained  or  near 
success,  the  pain  of  already-endured,  or  the  anxiety  of 
impending  defeat.  Is  this  an  angelic  being  ?  A  very 
efficient,  able,  resolute,  just,  brave,  and  even  tender 
man,  he  may  be,  but  no  angel,  certainly — not  angelic 
in  any  sense  that  he  would  be  pleased  to  have  expa- 
tiated upon,  by  one  standing  face  to  face  with  him. 
The  men  to  whom  these  terms  can  sometimes  be 
applied,  are  the  womanly  men — the  St.  Johns,  not  the 
St.  Peters ;  the  Oberlins,  not  the  Luthers — the  Ra- 
phaels, not  the  Buonarottis — the  Channings,  not  the 
Beechers. 

But  if  a  sentiment  so  uniformly  expressed  as  this 
of  man,  proves,  (and  no  one,  I  think,  will  deny  that  it 
does,)  the  existence,  in  woman,  of  the  qualities  and  capa- 
cities it  supposes  and  appeals  to,  no  less  must  its 
absence  in  woman  prove  that  the  same  attributes  in 
him  are  not  his  leading  ones — not  those  which  she 
most  broadly  recognizes,  and  builds  her  hopes  of  happi- 
ness and  good  from  him,  upon.  It  is  quite  clear  that 
each  of  the  sexes  in  loving  the  other,  has  its  chief  de- 
light and  most  abundant  and  substantial  satisfaction, 
in  those  qualities  wherein  their  personalities  are 
opposed ;  and  that,  of  the  two,  the  larger  personality, 


POPULAR    SENTIMENT    AND    OBSERVATION.  273 

as  a  whole,  must  bear  the  most  detailed  analysis,  and 
command  the  most  respectful,  reverential  treatment 
and  development. 

"  AY  hen  baith  bent  down  ower  ae  braid  page, 
Wi'  ae  buik  on  our  knee, 
Thy  lips  were  on  thy  lesson,  but 
My  lesson  was  in  theeP 

The  man  says :  "  If  you  cast  me  off,  I  shall  die 
heart-broken.  I  am  in  your  hands.  Do  what  you  will 
with  me,  only  be  merciful  and  loving.  Rule  me  as  my 
sovereign,  but  be  at  the  same  time  the  Queen  of  Love ; 
for  I  am  your  subject.  Love  me,  and  make  a  man  of 
me.  You  alone  can  do  it."  Thus  it  is  that  men 
delight  to  acknowledge  the  superiority  of  the  woman 
beloved,  over  themselves,  Not  only  this,  but  they  rill 
pages  and  even  whole  sheets  with  statements  of  her- 
self— to  herself:  these  being  mostly,  when  not  wholly, 
the  unfolding,  as  they  see  them,  of  the  spiritual  and 
affectional  elements  of  her  being,  and  the  showing  of 
her  power  in  those  directions  which  are  delightful  and 
refreshing  to  man,  because  they  are  the  opposite  of  the 
physical  and  intellectual  directions  in  which  his  power 
unfolds  most  spontaneously.  Nor  is  it  vanity  or  ego- 
tism which  makes  a  woman  receive  and  read  such 
sheets,  without  impatience  or  protest.  It  is,  as  I  have 
said,  a  perception,  an  intuition,  that  in  the  broadest 
sense,  if  not  wholly  in  the  personal  one,  they  contain 
truth.  They  are  the  treatment  of  her  personality  as  a 
whole,  and  the  reverent  recognition  of  what  is  at  once 
its  strongest  and  noblest  side.  But  man's  personality 
receives  but  a  fraction  of  the  treatment  given  to 
wo! i inn's  in  such  a  correspondence,  because,  being  the 
lesser  of  the  two,  it  does  not  kindle  the  inspiration,  in 
either  soul,  to  handle  it  so.  We  never,  in  such  high 
12* 


274:  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

hours  as  those  of  pure,  exalted  love,  voluntarily  choose 
the  less  noble  of  two  themes  or  subjects  that  are  be- 
fore us. 

So  if  woman  says  little  of  herself  in  answer  to  all 
that  he  has  said  of  her,  she  also  says  little  of  him  com- 
pared to  the  space  she  is  spread  over.  The  nises  of 
his  development  being  in  the  direction  of  the  physical 
and  intellectual,  as  opposed  to  her  intuitive  and  affec- 
tional ;  worldly  and  external,  as  opposed  to  her  spiritual 
and  internal ;  it  follows  very  clearly  that  without  inor- 
dinate egotism  in  him,  or  silliness  and  inanity  in  her, 
he  will  command,  by  much,  the  lesser  space  in  their 
discussion  of  themselves.  Hence,  the  love-letters  of 
women  who  are  capable  of  departing  from  personal, 
local,  and  transient  topics,  pass,  after  what  is  allowed 
to  these,  and  to  the  emotions  and  hopes  common 
between  them  and  their  lovers,  to  impersonal  matters — 
statement  or  question  on  things  high  or  low,  according 
to  the  writer's  range  of  vision  ;  but  they  never  say  :  "I 
hope  to  be  regenerated  by  your  purity  and  goodness. 
I  feel  myself  made  better  and  nobler  in  approaching 
you.  I  pray  you  to  keep  watch  and  ward  over  my 
hardness,  and  soften  it ;  over  my  worldliness,  and  put 
something  higher  in  its  stead ;  over  my  ambition,  and 
transmute  it  into  aspiration  ;  over  my  selfishness,  and 
make  it  less  eager  for  the  gains  and  goods  it  craves." 

Whatever  a  woman's  love  for  a  man,  and  her  can- 
dor with  him,  she  never  asks  him  for  such  help.  Her 
love  will  induce  her,  for  his  sake,  and  that  she  may  be 
to  him  the  best  and  noblest  of  which  her  life  is  capa- 
ble, to  endeavor  to  cure  herself,  it  may  be,  of  some 
hurtful  weakness,  some  infirmity  of  temper,  which  will 
mar  his  happiness  if  not  overcome  or  eradicated.  But 
the  good  she  expects  of  him  (besides  the  inestimable 


POPULAR    SENTIMENT   ANT)   OBSERVATION.  275 

good — which  is  his  as  well  as  hers — of  full  and  true 
relations)  is  of  the  external,  material,  or  outward  kind; 
to  the  securing  of  which  an  energetic  body  and  brain, 
a  brave  heart,  and  a  strong  arm,  are  more  necessary 
means  than  the  fine  spirituality,  the  aspiration,  the  love 
of  purity  and  beauty,  and  the  attraction  to  these,  which, 
according  to  his  capacity  to  appreciate  them,  he  hopes 
to  find  in  her.  This  kind  of  good,  high  natures  shrink 
from  asking,  in  any  manner,  of  another,  even  where 
it  is  their  right  to  expect  it ;  and  still  more,  feel  de- 
graded in  parading  or  discussing  at  any  length.  It  is 
a  shame  to  ask  bread  or  raiment ;  but  a  glory  and  a 
brightness  in  one's  day,  to  ask  for  spiritual  light  and 
guidance. 

A  very  brief  reference  to  the  sentiment  of  man 
toward  woman  in  the  minor  forms  of  its  expression, 
must  suffice  me  here ;  and  it  will  be  found  to  be  entirely 
harmonious  with  that  we  have  seen  in  the  major  one 
of  Love. 

In  the  era  of  man's  ascendency,  society,  because  of 
his  sensuality,  has  been  too  gross,  and  the  standards, 
therefore,  too  arbitrary,  and  the  forms  too  despotic, 
to  admit  the  existence,  except  very  rarely,  of  simple 
friendship  in  any  near,  living  warmth  between  the 
sexes.  For  the  same  reason,  its  open  acknowledgment 
and  cultivation  where  it  did  exist,  were  practical  social 
impossibilities.  It  is  only  within  a  few  years  that  there 
could  be  found,  anywhere  in  the  societies  of  which  we 
can  get  knowledge,  circles  of  persons  who  could  hear 
of  a  real  friendship — one  leading  to  frank,  affectionate 
and  interior  relations — between  a  woman  and  man. 
without  a  raising  of  the  eyebrows,  a  Bhrugging  of  the 
shoulders,  a  sidelong  glance  of  unbelief.  Women,  who, 
knowing  their  own  natures,  could  of  themselves  have 


276  WOMAU    A^"D    HEE   EEA. 

had  faith  in  it,  surrendered  their  judgment  to  the  sus- 
picion or  disbelief  which  men  created  everywhere  about 
them,  and  infused  through  the  social  atmosphere. 
Hence  they  shrunk  from  permitting,  or  acknowledging, 
relations  which  would  subject  themselves  to  such  criti- 
cism ;  and  hence,  too,  there  is  little  to  be  found,  even 
in  personal  history,  that  shows  the  existence  of  such 
attachments.  Man  in  his  passional  life  being  sensual, 
as  distinguished  from  woman,  who  is  spiritual ;  and 
intersexual  friendship  being  that  relation  which  calls 
for  the  frank  and  warm  exercise  towards  its  object,  of 
whatever  capacities  for  attachment  the  nature  possesses, 
save  those  which  are  sacred  and  exclusive  to  the  high 
relation  of  love,  there  have  been  as  yet  but  few  exam- 
ples of  its  brightest  and  most  beneficent  existence.  Of 
these,  fewer  still  have  been  permitted  to  appear  before 
the  world's  eye,  or  pass  to  record  in  the  memory  of  the 
lives  they  blessed ;  so  that  this  relation  of  men  and 
women,  which  is  destined  to  become,  in  the  purer  and 
higher  era  of  Female  Ascendency,  one  of  the  common, 
most  helpful  and  valued  experiences  of  mankind,  has 
been  hitherto  a  rare  phenomenon.  But  even  so,  we  find 
here  and  there  a  life  brightened  by  it.  Can  any  person 
doubt,  for  example,  that  Mrs.  Thrale's  friendship  for 
Dr.  Johnson  was  a  gracious  and  softening  influence, 
falling  upon  that  rigid,  inflexible  nature  of  his  ?  Can 
any  one  read  the  letters  of  Cowper  to,  or  about  Mrs. 
Unwin,  without  feeling  how  invaluable  her  cheerful, 
tranquil,  self-sustained  and  sustaining  affection  must 
have  been  to  his  morbid,  suffering  soul  ?  On  all  the 
levels  of  private  life,  where  one  can  gather  the  inner 
soul-experience  of  people,  how  often  good  men  acknow- 
ledge themselves  to  have  been  essentially  helped  by 
women  who  were  only  their  friends  !     How  many  men 


POPULAR    SENTIMENT   AND   OBSERVATION.  277 

one  hears,  in  the  various  moods  which  lead  them  to 
self-disclosure,  declaring  that  in  this  or  that  strait  or 
difficulty,  now  perhaps  long  past — when  they  were  dis- 
heartened, broken  in  spirit,  ill  in  body,  or  anguish- 
stricken  from  loss  of  fortune,  or  disappointment  in  love, 
or  the  utter  frustration  of  hopes  they  had  been  build- 
ing or  resting  in — some  sympathetic,  tender,  thoughtful 
woman  spoke  to  them  the  needed  word  of  encourage- 
ment ;  put  new  strength  into  their  souls ;  presented  to 
them  the  silvery  lining  of  the  dark,  overshadowing 
clouds ;  and  in  short,  fitted  them  anew  for  struggle. 

How  often  are  men  arrested,  after  years  of  profli- 
gacy, degradation  and  crime,  by  the  vivid  memory  of 
a  mother,  a  sister,  or  early  friend,  whose  appeal  had 
been  strong  to  their  better  nature  ;  or  by  the  sudden 
presence  before  them  of  such  an  one !  He  whom  a 
father  or  brother's  face  and  voice  would  instantly 
challenge  and  put  upon  his  self-defense,  feels  in  a  good 
woman  who  approaches  him,  a  fountain  of  tenderness 
and  compassion,  which  disarms  him  of  his  hardness, 
silences  the  self-justification  or  the  cant  with  which  he 
is  prepared  to  meet  men,  and  makes  him  yearn  in  heart 
for  the  fitness  he  once  had  to  mingle  with  those  purer 
lives. 

Woman  is  called  an  angel  of  purity  and  wisdom  to 
the  sinful  and  ignorant :  an  angel  of  innocence  among 
the  corrupt  and  depraved  ;  an  angel  of  peace  among 
the  discordant  and  fierce ;  an  angel  of  mercy  in  times 
of  suffering — as  in  pestilence  and  wars  ;  of  harmony  in 
music;  of  motion  in  the  dance — all  forms,  these,  of 
expressing  the  sentiment  which  man  entertains  of  her 
fitness  to  diviner  uses  in  these  relations  of  life  than 
naturally  belong  to  him. 

w-  Whatever  I  am,'1  said  Dr.  Spurzheim,  "I  owe  to 


278  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

my  excellent  mother — to  her  cherishing  tenderness — 
her  pnre  examples — her  faithful  and  judicious  care  of 
my  infancy  and  childhood."  Lamartine  acknowledges 
the  like  obligation  to  his  mother,  especially  for  the  cul- 
ture of  the  deep,  living  tenderness  of  spirit  which  is 
diffused  throughout  his  works.  Mrs.  Ilcmans  declares 
that  the  truest,  most  sustaining,  helpful  and  sympa- 
thetic friend  she  ever  had,  was  her  mother  ;  and  Mar- 
garet Fuller  writes  to  her  mother  these  words  :  "  The 
thought  of  you,  the  knowledge  of  your  angelic  nature, 
is  always  one  of  my  great  supports.  Happy  those  who 
have  such  a  mother !  Myriad  instances  of  selfishness 
and  corruption  of  heart  cannot  destroy  the  confidence 
in  human  nature." 

"  I  must  in  justice  admit,"  says  one  of  the  purest 
and  most  gifted  men  I  ever  knew,  "  that  I  am  deeply 
indebted  to  every  pure  woman  that  I  have  ever  been 
acquainted  with.  All  that  I  have  ever  learned  of  true 
love  I  have  derived  from  woman — from  feeling  the 
sphere  that  surrounds  her,  from  the  influence  that  ema- 
nates from  her  love,  from  hearing  the  sound  of  pure 
affection  in  the  music  of  her  voice,  and  the  harmonizing 
melody  of  her  words ;  from  seeing  the  heavenly  love 
and  purity  of  her  countenance,  and  the  angelic  grace 
of  her  form  and  actions ;  and  above  all,  from  a  know- 
ledge of  her  internal  life,  and  from  communion  with 
her  pure,  lofty,  generous,  heroic  spirit." 

I  could  go  on  to  fill  pages  with  quotations  or  state- 
ments conveying  the  same  meaning,  but  these  must 
suffice  me  here.  Before  taking  leave,  however,  of  this 
branch  of  the  subject,  I  must  beg  the  reader's  indulgence 
in  the  repetition  of  what  has  been  said  in  substance 
elsewhere,  viz. :  that  the  sentiment  of  Man  toward  Wo- 
man, as  we  have  seen  it,  is  founded,  as  the  sentiment 


POPULAR    SENTIMENT    AND   OBSERVATION.  279 

of  all  other  intelligences  in  the  Universe,  whether  they 
he  super-  or  sub-human,  must  be,  upon  the  actual,  im- 
perishable, though  perhaps  long-hidden,  truths  of  the 
nature  toward  which  they  exist.  There  is  no  durable, 
widespread  sentiment  like  this,  anywhere  in  the  Crea- 
tion, but  must  have  its  basis  in  a  truth  or  truths,  which 
are  intuitively  felt,  if  not  yet  analyzed  by  reason,  and 
weighed  in  the  scales  of  knowledge.  It  is  forbidden  in 
nature  that  mere  falsity  or  error  should  originate  or 
sustain  such  a  growth. 


Section  11. 

Sentiment  of  "Women  toward  "Women,  of  "Woman 
toward  Women,  and  both  toward  Woman. 

I. — Of  Women  toward   Women. 

Having  thus  shown  what  is  the  sentiment  of  Man 
toward  Woman,  as  expressed  by  the  various  methods 
which  are  either  exclusive  to  him,  as  in  love,  or  common 
to  both  sexes,  it  remains  for  me  to  examine  and  state 
as  best  I  can,  the  three  phases  of  Human  Sentiment 
named  above,  beginning  with  the  first  in  order — the 
sentiment  of  Women  toward  Women.  And  here  I 
must  beg  careful  attention  to  the  distinctions,  more 
important  even  than  nice,  between  these  three.  They 
are  not  only  distinctions,  but  differences  also,  so  wide 
(as  we  shall,  I  hope,  see,)  that  he  who  runs  may  read 
them. 

Hitherto  I  have  treated  exclusively  of  Woman  in 
these  pages.  I  shall  now  be  compelled,  for  a  brief 
space,  to  turn  aside  from  the  pleasant  and  living  fields 
of  Truth,  where  we  have  walked  with  her,  into  quite 
other  barren,  nowerless,  desert  wastes,  where  we  shall 


280  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

find  her  mis-representatives  the  women  of  our  day — of 
every  day  the  world  has  yet  seen. 

Woman,  whose  acquaintance  we  have  made,  is  the 
being,  according  to  Nature's  design  ;  at  once  the  primal 
and  the  ultimate  truth  of  our  sex — not  as  yet  abund- 
antly expressed  in  its  phenomenal  phases — only  here  and 
there  shining  through  a  representative,  who  adds  to  the 
organic  facts  of  her  sex,  the  ethical  ones  which  entitle 
us  to  the  grand  deduction  —  Womanhood. 

Women,  whom  all  of  us  know  better  than  we  know 
this  glorious  creature,  are  the  products  of  what  we 
agree  to  call  life,  otherwise  of  Society ;  and  they  be- 
come whatever  they  are,  much  less  by  virtue  of  interior 
forces  than  of  outward  conditions,  falling,  as  it  were, 
accidentally  around  them  ;  the  most  craved  and  dreaded 
of  these  being  found  at  the  two  extremes  of  the  social 
scale — idleness,  luxury,  self-indulgence,  and  spiritual 
self-destruction  through  them  ;  or  toils,  rudenesses, 
hardships,  and  self-destruction  through  these — the  end 
essentially  the  same  in  each  case. 

As  gods,  whatever  their  number,  still  misinterpret 
to  us  the  God  ;  and  as  men,  though  seen  by  thousands, 
yet  misrepresent  Man,  so  women,  by  whole  generations 
and  ages,  misrepresent  to  us  Woman  ;  and  the  more 
widely  as  they  become  more  wholly  the  creatures  of 
the  civilization  defined,  molded  and  stamped  by  the 
energies,  intellect  and  passions  of  men.  In  the  pre- 
ceding pages  I  have  endeavored  to  show  the  nature  of 
Woman,  in  some  of  those  traits  wherein  it  differs  essen- 
tially, intrinsically,  and  therefore  eternally,  from  the 
nature  of  Man.  In  those  immediately  following,  I 
shall  attempt  to  show  some  of  the  differences,  not 
between  Woman  and  Man,  but  between  Woman  and 
Women. 


POPULAR    -SENTIMENT    AND   OBSERVATION.  281 

Woman  is,  comparatively  at  least,  ihefree  being  of 

her  species  and  sex.  She  is  one  in  whom  the  divine, 
interior,  spiritual  forces  overtop  the  outward,  belittling 
constraints  which  "Women  take  on  and  fit  themselves 
to.  One  subordinates,  by  the  force  of  her  own  life,  the 
outer  to  the  inner,  making  of  its  helps,  means  to  the 
end  of  her  growth — of  its  hindrances,  the  stimuli  to 
noble  and  more  strenuous  effort  toward  self-emancipa- 
tion and  development;  from  trial  and  suffering,  extracts, 
by  the  divine  distillation  to  which  her  high  fortitude 
and  courage  subject  them,  their  one  drop  of  pure 
strength  for  her  firm  soul ;  from  joys,  their  heavenly 
aromas  for  its  nurture. 

The  other  subordinates  the  inner  to  the  outer ;  suffers 
circumstances  to  be  kings  and  queens  over  her;  makes 
of  means,  ends;  converts  often,  through  her  weakness 
of  purpose,  helps  into  hindrances,  and  allows  hindrances 
to  become  impossibilities — fixtures  in  her  road  which 
she  is  never  to  pass  by.  Thus  she  loses  sight  of  her 
true  goal,  and,  lingering  at  the  very  entrance,  or  mid- 
way, in  her  career,  may  join  herself  to  any  of  the  stand- 
still classes,  according  to  the  leadings  of  her  nature ; 
but  whatever  she  does,  always  infallibly  accepting  a 
low  thing  for  a  high  thing — a  mess  of  pottage  for  the 
bright  birthright  of  an  aspiring  spirit.  Alas!  how 
often  daily,  is  the  experience  of  foolish  Esau  repeated 
among  us,  and  we  see  in  it  no  significance  or  warning! 

Women  who  have  touched,  it  may  be  sensibly,  the 
sphere  of  aspiration  ;  who  have  caught  the  golden  light, 
and  breathed  the  fine  airs  of  that  high  world,  and  seen 
its  glorious  steeps,  not  fading,  but  mounting  to  the  very 
heavens;  whither  they  too,  by  faithfulness,  might  rise 
and  sun  their  souls,  sit  down  at  the  mountain's  base, 
and  surrender  all  that  it  offers  them,  perhaps,  for  a 


282  woman  axd  her  era. 

career  in  the  world  of  fashion ;  perhaps  for  a  life  of 
degrading,  because  dwarfing  and  stultifying  ease ;  per- 
haps for  a  few  years  of  empty  stagnation  which  they 
miscall  peace  ;  or  for  the  approval  of  persons  already 
so  dead  that  they  can  only  bury  those  who  are  a  degree 
deader,  but  give  life  to  none ;  or  they  perhaps  enter 
into  the  pure  worldly  spirit,  and  become  drudges  for 
gain  ;  or  they  surrender  as  slaves,  suffering  their  native 
love  of  good  and  growth  to  be  overruled  by  the  mer- 
cenary spirit  which  dominates  their  own ;  or,  if  very 
amiable  and  gentle,  they  may  give  up  the  highest  and 
best  they  are  capable  of  to  the  exactions  of  hospitality, 
becoming  entertainers  of  bodies  merely,  and  losing, 
while  they  are  devising  and  ministering  palate-pleasures 
to  successive  rounds  of  visitors,  all  capacity  to  receive 
or  give  mind-  and  soul-entertainment.*  Or,  possessing 
some  spirituality,  yet  lacking  the  courage  and  moral 
fiber  requisite  in  the  battle-field  of  life,  and  seeing 
others  go  forward  whom  they  would  fain  accompany, 
they  may  grow,  in  their  irresolution,  querulous  and 
complaining,  when  pressed  or  jostled  by  those  whose 


*  Among  the  middle  classes  of  our  American  women  this  is 
often  the  strongest  feature  of  their  social  condition.  Thousands 
of  comfortable  farmers,  mechanics,  small  traders,  physicians,  and 
other  professional  men's  wives,  live  only  or  chiefly  to  spread  laden 
tables  before  swift  succeeding  platoons  of  guests — the  times  be- 
tween their  going  and  coming  being  chiefly  occupied  in  setting 
the  house  in  order,  and  filling  the  empty  pantries  for  the  next 
arrival.  Nothing  that  we  call  social  pleasure  could  be  more  mis- 
named than  this  senseless  round  of  feasting,  which  to  its  victims 
is  not  visiting,  but  a  series  of  visitations  in  the  sad  Scriptural 
sense.  It  swallows  up  years  of  the  best  part  of  life,  that  would 
have  been  inestimable  for  the  self-improvement  of  the  mother,  and 
the  culture  of  her  growing  children. 


P0PULAK  SENTIMENT  AND  OBSERVATION.     283 

places  in  the  march  they  ought  long  ago  to  have  left 
vacant  for  them. 

She  is  a  Woman,  whatever  her  culture  or  her  igno- 
rance; her  position  or  want  of  it,  who  feels  that  her 
real  good  must  come,  at  least  as  much  from  within  as 
without  herself;  for  only  so  does  she  prove  her  rever- 
ence for  her  own  nature;  who  has  insight  to  find  in 
herself  and  others,  and  to  touch  seasonably  the  springs 
of  help  and  harmony ;  who  concerns  herself,  whether 
amid  cares  or  pleasures  of  her  own,  whether  with  ease 
or  difficulty,  to  work  for  the  real,  the  most  interior  and 
lasting  good  which  she  can  feel  to  be  possible,  and  not 
merely  for  the  present  comfort  of  those  she  is  in  rela- 
tions with ;  who,  foreseeing  the  approach  of  evil,  rises 
spontaneously  to  front  and  put  it  away  ;  or  perceiving 
the  good  that  is  latent,  hesitates  not  to  strike  off  the 
fetters  or  forms  which  hinder  its  freedom  of  action,  and 
fulfill  her  mission,  if  needful,  in  the  spirit  of  him  who 
declared  that  the  Christ-office  on  earth  was  not  to  bring 
peace,  but  a  sword  rather ;  who  does  not  shrink  from 
disturbing  the  slumber  of  sluggards,  no  matter  how 
deep,  if  beyond  her  act  there  is  visible  any  little  ray 
of  light  which  the  agitation  may  broaden  and  brighten. 

But  of  Women,  is  she  who  delights  in  the  opposites 
of  these  things;  in  whom  apathy  takes  the  place  of 
earnestness ;  and  politeness  neutralizes  all  deep  con- 
viction. Yqi-v  elegant  and  polished  she  may  be  out- 
wardly, but  within  she  is  full  of  spiritual  and  mental 
darkness  and  stagnation.  Her  interior  is  not  a  flowing 
landscape,  brightened  by  swift-running  clear  streams, 
genial  sun-light,  flowing  breezes,  and  waving  herbage  ; 
but  a  gloomy  marsh,  filled  with  sluggish,  mantling 
waters,  decaying  plants,  and  wide-spread  mire.  She 
may  be  indifferent  to  good,  either  from  a  love  of  ease 


284  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

or  a  desire  to  win  the  verdict  of  her  world,  which,  well 
she  knows,  will  refuse  to  stamp  as  current  any  but  its 
own  conventional  coin,  and  luill  stamp  that,  however 
base  it  may  be.  She  will  not  believe  that  Christ  is 
represented  in  her,  and  makes  demands  upon  her  to  be 
the  savior  of  those  who  may  be  saved  by  her,  for  such 
a  belief  would  put  away  her  irreligious  indolence,  and 
make  her  vitiating  ease  an  impossibility.  But  she 
lives  in  the  love  of  external,  finite  and  paltry  goods — 
goods  of  self-indulgence,  of  fortune,  of  position,  to  which 
the  world  pays  court ;  of  shallow,  social  power,  whose 
fountain  dies  like  a  mountain  stream,  with  the  fading 
of  her  beauty,  the  departure  of  her  youth,  or  the  loss 
of  her  comforts;  and  she  reckons  these,  with  their  like, 
higher  and  more  satisfying  than  a  divine  ability  to 
help  persons  to  their  salvation — more  desirable  than 
the  spiritual,  infinite  good  which  might  be  hers  ;  more 
dignified  than  heroic  self-denial  and  faithful  effort,  out 
of  which  come  spiritual  growth,  power,  and  joys 
unspeakable. 

Thus  Women  are  slaves,  and  the  offspring  of  slavery 
in  one  or  another  of  its  three  forms,  Domestic,  Social, 
or  Civil,  or  of  all  the  three  combined.  But  Woman  is 
superior  to  slavery,  and,  whatever  her  outward  or  tem- 
porary lot,  can  no  more  be  caught  and  fixed  in  this 
lot,  than  the  fountain  can  be  pent  at  its  source,  or  the 
wind  stayed  where  it  rises.  The  forces  which  make 
her  Woman  are  keener,  subtler,  more  penetrating  than 
the  impalpable  searching  ether,  and  if  they  have  been 
strong  enough  originally  to  individualize  her  as  a 
Wo?nan,  with  the  true  attributes  of  womanhood,  she 
will  never  be  a  slave  ;  never,  though  she  should  become 
a  chattel  in  Louisiana  or  Algiers.  There  is  that  in  her 
which  cannot  be  enslaved;  which  escapes  the  condition  ; 


POPULAR    SENTIMENT    AND  OBSERVATION. 


9fi. 


evermore  eludes  it  as  we  may  suppose  an  angel  would 
elude  the  clasp  of  arms  of  flesh. 

Woman,  in  this  sense,  may  be  found  in  a  hovel,  a 
cotton-mill,  or  your  kitchen.  Women,  in  the  corres- 
ponding sense,  abound  ;  they  may  be  found  in  palaces, 
the  highest  conventional  circles,  or  your  own  drawing- 
room. 

"We  are  now  prepared  to  see  why  society  is  enriched 
but  rarely  with  the  presence  of  a  Woman,  while  Wo- 
i,i<  n  can  be  produced,  a  score  or  fifty  to  every  one  of 
them.  This  same  society  which  demands,  also  produces 
them.  They  are  molded  and  stamped  by  it ;  the  na- 
tural character  of  girls  born  of  such  women  being 
favorable  to  the  perpetuation  of  the  processes  which 
brought  them  forth  to  the  condition  of  their  mothers. 
Society  supersedes  her,  (the  mother),  and  becomes  father 
and  mother  both,  to  the  extent  that  it  subordinates 
individuality  and  deep  personal  conviction  of  duty,  in 
the  women  and  men  who  are  rearing  families ;  and  I 
leave  any  candid  person  to  look  over  its  face,  and  say 
how  small  is  the  proportion  of  those  who  are  able  to 
resist  its  influences. 

Each  social  level  has  its  stereotyped  front  to  which 
the  voung  candidate  is  brought,  as  the  heathen  vouth 
before  his  idol,  whom  to  know  is  ever  after  to  bow  down 
before. 

Thou  shalt  worship  here  first  and  last. 

Thou  shalt  not  go  away  seeking  other  and  higher 
gods. 

Thou  shalt  covet,  and  strive  for,  the  gifts  and  pos- 
sesions which  other  worshipers  bring  to  this  shrine, 
for  this  is  honoring  him  whose  it  is. 

Thou  shalt  not  honor  father,  or  mother,  Bister, 
1  nether,  or  friend,  when   they  urge  thee  to  the  shrine 


2S6  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

of  the  unknown  God,  for  lo !  am  I  not  always  before 
thee  ? 

Tliis  is  the  decalogue  of  the  young  neophyte  of  our 
day.  Society,  within  whose  pale  she  has  taken  her 
place,  neither  recognizes  nor  respects  the  spiritual  mo- 
tives which  alone  can  develop  a  Woman  out  of  a  girl. 
If  it  finds  them  in  her,  it  presents  its  frigid  side  instead, 
and  chills  them  into  numbness,  or  it  jeers  their  possessor 
till  she  is  ashamed  of  her  best  gifts  and  acknowledges 
them  as  weaknesses;  or  if  she  will  not  be  so  defaced  of 
her  individuality,  it  turns  its  back  upon  her,  or  perhaps 
with  a  shrug  and  sidelong  glance  expresses  a  charitable 
feeling  toward  her  eccentric  nobleness  and  enthusiasm, 
giving  it  clearly  to  be  understood  the  while,  that  she 
would  be  infinitely  more  approvable  without  them. 
Because  society,  in  its  existing  spirit,  sees  and  respects 
only  external  objects,  and  low,  external,  and  swift- 
perishing  good.  How  can  it,  therefore,  educate  and 
fashion  a  Woman?  In  conforming  to  its  standards 
and  accepting  its  awards,  the  young  female  sets  before 
her  a  good  or  goods  equally  limited  in  nature,  and  ines- 
timably more  so  in  diversity  and  extent,  than  are  those 
which  the  young  man  accepts  as  his  aim ;  the  larger 
.nature  being  thus  compressed  into  the  lesser  measure. 
But  it  cannot  know  rest  or  peace  in  this  confinement, 
and  when,  accordingly,  it  protrudes  in  grotesque,  angu- 
lar and  inharmonious  proportions,  its  keeper  laughs, 
sneers,, flouts  or  groans  at  the  spectacle  it  exhibits.  For 
that  soul  has  entered  into  sore  bondage  who  has  taken 
society  for  its  ruler.  No  inquisitor  can  be  so  relent- 
less— no  torturer  so  ingenious  and  untiring ;  as  thou- 
sands of  women,  martyred  to  its  diabolic  spirit,  have 
testified  in  their  sufferings,  and  continue  to,  up  to  this 
hour." 


POPULAR    SENTIMENT    AND   OBSERVATION.  267 

It  is  this  spirit  supplanting  the  womanly  one,  which 
makes  the  Sentiment  of  Women  towards  Women. 
They  are  all  competitors  for  the  same  or  like  goods  in 
life — goods  which,  in  their  very  nature  and  essence,  are 
so  limited  and  perishable  that  those  who  pursue  them 
must  become  rivals — must,  therefore,  as  they  prize  suc- 
cess, keep  a  bright  watch  upon  competitors.  Is  it 
strange,  then,  or  unnatural,  that  in  this  keen  race  there 
should  arise  the  temptation  to  throw  obstacles  in  the 
way  of  those  who  are  gaining  on  the  runner;  that  this 
temptation  should  be  yielded  to ;  that  in  the  antago- 
nism of  such  narrow  and  mean  interests,  and  the  spirit- 
ual poverty  which  their  cultivation  engenders  in  the 
character,  Jealousy  and  Envy  should  replace  the  gen- 
erosity, the  sympathy  with  the  defects  or  triumphs  of 
others,  the  consideration  for  them  which  are  character- 
istic of  Woman  f     I  think  not. 

Is  it  strange  that  the  fruits  of  Jealousy  and  Envy, 
viz. :  ill  nature  toward  those  who  excite  them,  de- 
traction, petty  back-biting,  puerile,  childish  slander, 
should  appear  in  the  intercourse  of  those  who  entertain 
those  unworthy  feelings?     I  think  not. 

Is  it  strange  that  the  forms  in  which  they  are'  ex- 
pressed in  the  lives  of  women,  should  differ  from  their 
correspondents  in  the  lives  of  men,  and  seem,  by  all  the 
difference,  more  contemptible?     I  think  not. 

Because  the  common  envy  and  jealousies  of  men, 
are  provoked  in  strife  for  successes  which  they  are  con- 
stituted to  win ;  and  for  all  the  ages  thus  far,  do  respect 
themselves  in  winning.  To  this  strife  they  bring  the 
weight  of  their  best  intellectual  and  executive  powers. 
their  strong  passions  and  forces,  wont  to  deal  with 
opponents  in  various  forms  of  earth,  rocks,  mountains, 
forests,  winds,  seas,  and   men.     Their  encounter  with 


288  WOMAN   AND    HEK   ERA. 

human  rivals  is  thus  more  dignified  in  its  manner,  and 
by  its  objects ;  and  they  respect,  in  each  other  and 
themselves,  the  sagacity,  shrewdness,  over-reaching, 
strategy ;  or,  in  the  last  resort,  the  brute  force,  by 
which,  for  certain  provocations,  they  put  a  rival  out  of 
their  path.  What  merchant  is  less  esteemed,  in  the 
active  business  world,  for  drawing  the  trade  from  his 
neighbor  to  himself,  provided  always  that  he  succeeds 
in  "  realizing,"  as  the  commercial  phrase  is,  largely 
from  his  efforts  ?  Is  not  man's  whole  world  of  business 
organized  on  the  principle  of  rivalry,  and  does  not  this 
justify  any  not  gross  or  unreasonable  depreciation  of 
the  neighbor's  wares  or  products,  whether  in  material 
or  skill  ?  If  delicately  managed,  is  it  not  allowed  to  a 
man  as  a  valuable  and  sure  element  of  success?  Not 
always  open,  perhaps,  but  is  it  any  less  depreciation, 
that  you  assure  a  purchaser  that  you  have  the  best  and 
cheapest  wares,  when  you  know  that  your  neighbor's  are 
equal  in  quality,  and  bear  the  same  price  ?  Consult  the 
advertising  columns  of  the  newspapers,  if  you  think  this 
an  over-colored  or  severe  statement  of  the  principle  on 
which  the  world  of  masculine  business  activity  is  based. 
Now,  when  women  devote  themselves  to  the  pur- 
suit of  good,  which,  as  I  have  said,  is  equally  limited  in 
its  nature,  and  inexpressibly  more  so  in  diversity  and 
quantity,  what  can  be  expected  but  that,  like  rival  can- 
didates, merchants,  artisans,  physicians,  or  advocates, 
they  should  become  also,  at  least  so  far  as  success  and 
the  interest  in  their  pursuit  is  involved,  enemies;  de- 
preciate each  other,  since  themselves  are,  for  the  most 
part,  the  material  to  be  given  for  what  they  seek,  and 
thus  become  the  beings  they  are  most  impatient  of, 
Women  J  wanting,  alas,  many  of  the  developed  attri- 
butes, without  which  a  Woman  cannot  he. 


POPULAR    SENTIMENT    AND   OBSERVATION.  289 

In  his  Essay  on  Woman  in  America,  the  "Rev.  A. 
D.  Mayo  has  thus  clearly  and  bravely  stated  and  de- 
fined this  evil  among  our  country-women.  I  quote  his 
words,  because  they  exhibit  a  clear-sightedness  on  this 
question,  very  valuable  to  those  who  are  endeavoring 
to  solve  the  riddle  of  the  social  position,  relations  and 
influences  of  Women. 

"During  this  formative  period  of  social  life,  the 
material  advantages  of  our  condition  have  a  fatal  fas- 
cination to  our  young  country-women.  There  was 
never  a  race  of  men  acquiring  wealth  and  position  so 
fast  as  the  young  men  of  America  ;'  so  every  farmer's, 
mechanic's,  or  merchant's  daughter ;  every  girl  at  her 
needle,  her  studies,  her  school-teacher's  desk,  has  a 
mighty  temptation  to  keep  the  brightest  corner  of  her 
best  eye  open  for  the  coming  man,  who  shall  appear  in 
his  coach  at  her  mother's  door,  carry  her  to  a  beautiful 
home,  and  bear  her  on  from  triumph  to  triumph  in  her 
social  career.  Honor  to  those  who  fix  their  eyes  on  the 
higher  spiritual -prizes  of  American  freedom,  and  live 
out  the  resolve  to  found  their  success  on  something 
better  than  money  and  ease ;  but  they  are  the  chosen 
few.  The  crowd  of  American  girls  do  what  women 
would  do  everywhere ;  neglect  the  higher  culture  of 
the  soul  in  the  scheming  or  waiting  for  the  sensual 
advantages  of  life,  and  spend  the  first  quarter  of  a  cen- 
tury rather  in  superficial  occupations,  and  inquiring 
after  desirable  husbands,  than  in  toiling  to  become  good 
wives  and  Republican  mothers. 

"  This  fearful  push  for  the  material  prizes  of  our 
national  life,  explains  the  imperfect  education  of  Ameri- 
can young  women.  Mothers  and  daughters  vie  in  the 
cultivation  of  those  temporary  graces  and  accomplish- 
ments which  are  supposed  to  bring  young  men  t<>  a 
crisis  in  the  affections,  while  the  solid  qualities  which 
can  alone  retain  the  love  of  a  rational  man,  or  fit  a 
woman  for  genuine  success,  are  postponed  till  life  is 
upon  them.  It  also  accounts  for  the  ridiculous  imita- 
tion of  foreign  fashions,  which  makes  Boston  a  sham 
13 


290  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

London,  and  New  York  a  sham  Paris,  and  arrays  the 
girls  of  every  Western  town  in  obedience  to  the  fashion- 
plates  of  Godey  and  Harper.  It  is  the  chief  cause  of 
the  restlessness  of  women,  and  the  want  of  peace  in 
family  and  social  life;  for  young  women  who  are 
crazed  with  this  ambition,  cannot  be  quiet  enough  to 
develop  that  sweetness  and  strength,  which  is  the  rock 
at  the  center  of  earthly  life,  and,  next  to  God's  love, 
the  best  support  of  man.  And  this  is  the  secret  cause 
of  the  fearful  collapse  of  female  health  in  America  ;  for, 
standing  on  tip-toe  and  watching  a  chance  to  leap  on 
board  a  fairy's  floating  palace  that  wavers  over  a 
stormy  sea,  is  not  a  healthy,  though  an  exciting  occu- 
pation. It  forces  children  through  the  grades  of  girl- 
hood with  steam-power  rapidity  to  young  ladyhood, 
while  they  should  be  romping  in  pantalets,  learning 
science  or  household  duties  under  their  teachers  or 
mothers.  This  rush  of  energy  to  the  surface  of  life,  the 
excitements,  hopes  and  fears  of  a  young  lady's  career, 
leave  the  deep  places  of  the  heart  dry,  and  create  a 
morbid  restlessness  of  the  affections,  that  preys  upon 
the  very  springs  of  physical  existence;  so  the  majority 
of  American  girls,  when  they  have  obtained  their  lover, 
are  not  physically  lit  to  become  his  wife  and  the 
mother  of  his  children,  and  the  bright  path  of  girl- 
hood dips  down  into  the  valley  of  shadows,  that  mar- 
ried life  is  to  woman  in  thousands  of  American  homes. 
"  This  material  ambition  of  the  girls  drives  their 
companions  of  the  other  sex  into  over-heated  exertions 
in  business,  and  exhausts  their  health  and  freshness,  by 
awakening  at  one-and-twenty  the  sense  of  obligation 
belonging  to  forty  ;  while  their  ill  health  and  practical 
effeminacy  prevent  thousands  of  young  men  from  mar- 
rying, and  thus  fearfully  increase  the  sensuality  of  the 
community.  It  drives  the  young  couple  to  live  beyond 
their  means,  and  sacrifice  constant  comfort  and  true 
family  life  to  occasional  splendor  and  periodical  excite- 
ment. American  men  wear  out  in  business,  keeping 
up  the  household,  and  women  wear  out  in  straining 
after  social  position.  Children  are  born  with  the  mark 
of  this  career  upon  them,  and  brought  up  in  a  more 


POPULAR    SENTIMENT    AND   OBSERVATION.  291 

exaggerated  style.  The  mother  at  last  breaks  down 
under  social  cares  and  family  distractions,  and  the 
father  has  no  spot  of  rest  on  earth.  The  American 
woman  lias  not  yet  created  the  American  home.  As  a 
nation  we  are  jaded,  sad,  nervous.  Our  men  do  not 
come  out  of  their  fine  houses  with  the  glory  of  the  Lord 
shining  in  their  faces,  as  Moses  came  down  from  the 
mount,  but  as  tired  and  restless  as  they  went  in.  The 
Republican  home  that  shall  cheer,  console,  and  elevate 
the  American  people,  and  the  Republican  society  that 
is  but  its  extension  and  idealization,  are  yet  a  vision." 

But  let  us  not  comfort  ourselves  in  the  belief  that 
this  is  true  only  of  the  females  of  this  Republic.  Women 
are  unspiritual  everywhere  throughout  the  civilized 
nations.  They  love  material  good  in  Britain  as  well  as 
in  America.  They  love  ease,  elegance  and  pleasure  in 
France  as  much  as  we  of  the  West.  In  Germany  they 
stay  undisturbed  from  generation  to  generation,  waiting 
for  the  men  to  thi?ik,  (which  is  eminently  their  func- 
tion), and  for  the  world,  (if  it  please  and  is  able),  to 
plan  and  execute  its  own  good,  or  to  forego  it.  In  any 
event,  it  is  not  they,  good,  careful  housewives  and  af- 
fectionate mothers,  who  are  to  concern  themselves  in 
its  behalf.  And  throughout  Europe  it  is  only  the  few 
women — the  fraction,  proportionally  smaller  even 
than  with  us — who  afford  the  world  any  sound  thinking 
or  brave  doing ;  society  any  large,  gracious  amenities ; 
or  their  own  sex  any  calm,  liberal  judgment,  divested 
of  the  narrow,  cramped  personality  in  which  women 
commonly  exercise  it.  It  is  only  the  few  who  are  as- 
sured by  birth,  or  the  accident  of  position — who  have 
all,  in  the  outward  sense,  that  they  desire,  and  are  freed 
from  jealousy  and  envy  therefore,  not  by  heroism  and 
nobleness  of  nature,  but  by  the  amplest  satisfaction  of 
their  demands — the  same  terms  on  which  the  speculator 


292  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

would  leave  you  your  possessions,  and  the  burglar  your 
house  undisturbed — it  is  only  this  few,  I  repeat,  who 
can  afford  to  be  tenderly  or  liberally  cognizant  of  the 
presence  and  claims  of  other  women. 

The  law  indeed  of  WomarCs  nature  forbids  her  be- 
coming a  competitor — (as  she  must  whenever  material 
good  becomes  the  supreme  object  of  her  life) — without 
degradation  of  her  spirit,  which  is  not  framed  for  com- 
petition and  rivalry,  but  for  harmonious  helpfulness ; 
for  the  joys,  not  of  material  successes,  which  so  often 
involve  failure  to  some  other ;  but  of  spiritual  victories, 
every  one  of  which  is  a  source  of  help,  strength,  cour- 
age, and  triumph  to  another. 

Is  it  not  plain  from  this,  why  Women  do  not  love 
Women,  and  treat  them  always  tenderly,  absent  or 
present  ?  and  that  they  fail  in  so  far  as  they  enter  the 
masculine  world  of  motives,  and  are  penetrated  by  its 
selfish,  striving  spirit ;  in  so  far  as  they  adopt  its  stand- 
ards and  abandon  the  exalted  aims  of  the  "Woman- 
Nature,  for  the  pursuit  of  material  good  ?  Thence  the 
whole  life,  with  all  its  perceptions,  purposes,  impulses, 
hopes,  fears,  desires,  is  vitiated,  narrowed,  chilled, 
clouded ;  its  endless  bright  vistas  closed  in  dim  mists 
of  disappointment ;  its  glorious  blooms  weighed  down 
by  the  rain  of  anguish,  sorrow,  self-re proach,  or  deep- 
hidden,  silent  shame  before  their  own  souls.  Benumbed 
in  spirit,  impatient  of  nerve,  and  irritated  by  failure 
perhaps  on  both  hands — infallible  loss,  for  life,  and  for 
ages  beyond,  it  may  be,  of  the  highest ;  and  no  less  cer- 
tain lack  of  satisfaction  in  the  lowest,  whatever  the 
measure  of  success  in  its  attainment — they  become  the 
harshest  judges  of  their  own  motives  in  others  of  their 
sex.  They  know  the  unworthiness  of  them  from  expe- 
rience, in  their  own  bosoms,  and  hate  the  lives  which 


POPULAR    SENTIMENT    AND   OBSERVATION.  293 

they  govern.  Denouncing  the  world  while  they  let  it 
rule  them,  they  become,  all  the  more,  sticklers  for  its 
authority ;  as  a  man  is  never  so  blatant  an  advocate  of 
his  cause,  system,  or  party,  as  when  he  loses  faith  in  it, 
yet,  for  self-love,  or  pride,  or  the  hope  of  advantage, 
puts  down  his  conscience  and  sticks  to  it.  After  that 
the  meanness  must  be  deep  indeed,  to  which  he  will 
not  descend  in  its  defense.  So  Women,  who  have  given 
up  their  individual  life  for  the  life  of  the  world,  adopt 
a  social  creed  of  its  framing,  which  justifies  any  bigotry 
and  severity  in  defense  of  its  tribunals  and  canons. 
They  become  the  most  merciless  judges  of  a  sister  who 
violates  the  laws  which  are  the  bulwarks  of  their  false 
dignity.  Apostates  themselves,  fallen  from  the  high 
worship  they  owe,  and  walking  with  eyes  that  see  not, 
and  ears  that  hear  not,  along  the  paths  never  designed 
for  their  footsteps,  they  are  awful  and  relentless  toward 
her  whom  their  lynx-eyes  may  detect  treading,  b}r  so 
much  as  an  inch,  upon  the  more  forbidden  ground  be- 
yond. They  are  like  a  company  of  guilty,  suspected 
persons,  who  feel  themselves  exposed  and  injured  by 
the  slightest  questionable  act,  look  or  gesture  of  one  of 
their  number,  which  honorable  and  pure  persons  would 
fail  to  see,  or  seeing,  would  not  even  suspect,  or  sus- 
pecting, would  immediately,  from  the  wealth  of  their 
own  conscious  uprightness  and  strength  of  position, 
excuse. 

II. — Of  Woman  toward   Women. 

The  reader  who  has  followed  the  line  of  distinction 
thus  far  drawn  between  Woman  and  Women,  is  by 
this  time  prepared  to  accept  the  assertion  that  the  sen- 
timent of  the  former  toward  the  latter  is  quite  the  oppo- 
site of  theirs  toward  each  other,  in  all  that  indicates 


294  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

the  quality  of  her  personal  attributes.  From  her  ex- 
alted stand-point  Woman  looks  over  the  checkered  fields 
of  life,  and  intuitively  perceiving,  where  her  reason  is 
not  equal  to  searching  them  out,  the  causes  of  false  sen- 
timent, ill-behavior  and  unfriendly  eagerness  in  behalf 
of  self  among  her  sex,  she  sees  them  as  features  of  per- 
verted conditions  which  her  sympathies  treat  tenderly. 
She  reveres  the  latent  Woman  even  in  the  Women  who 
repel  her  reverence  by  the  lack  of  fitness  and  beauty 
in  their  lives.  Womanhood,  however  dimly  it  may 
shine  out  of  Women,  she  sees  and  knows,  has  in  it  a 
divine  appeal  to  her  inmost  soul  which  gives  a  certain 
gladness  and  joy  to  her  thought  of  them  as  its  repre- 
sentatives. She  looks  for  the  days  of  their  enlargement 
and  ascent  into  their  own  world,  where  a  more  heavenly 
light  will  fall  around  them ;  diviner  airs  purify  and 
stir  their  souls,  and  truer  motives,  because  their  own 
instead  of  Man  and  Society's,  will  move  them. 

Her  faith  in  herself  gives  her  faith  in  others,  even  at 
their  worst.  However  depraved,  she  finds  them  Women 
still,  and  some  deep  chords  in  "each  soul  vibrate  in  unison 
to  certain  sensations,  hidden  hopes,  trusts,  sympathies, 
and  yearnings  which  are  common  to  their  natures — 
and  only  to  theirs.  She  may  be  central  in  this  high 
realm,  and  her  unhappy,  undeveloped  sister  may  but 
touch  its  circumference,  with  eyes  blind  to  its  unmatched 
beauties,  with  ears  deaf  to  its  pure,  sweet  harmonies — 
with  sense  and  faculty  dulled  by  disuse  or  so  warped 
by  perversion  that  truth  has  never  been,  or  possibty, 
(and  this  is  more  lamentable),  is  no  longer  their  chosen 
pabulum ;  yet  in  this  poor,  dumb,  distorted  soul ;  this 
tenant,  it  may  be,  of  an  ulcerous,  blotched,  bleared 
and  trembling  body,  she  hails  a  being  kindred  to  her 
own,  in  its  separating  attributes.    The  same  mysteries, 


POPULAR  SENTIMENT  AND  OBSERVATION.     295 

the  same  pain?,  the  same  pleasures ;  like  desires,  like 
aversions,  like  attractions,  like  vague,  suspensive,  de- 
lightful, or  instant,  defined,  firm,  painful  repulsions, 
possible  to  each  :  theirs  and  theirs  only — impossible  for- 
ever, through  experience  or  speculation,  to  man.  Every 
Woman,  I  suppose,  can  imagine  the  hour  and  the  cir- 
cumstances in  which  she,  from  pure  joy  at  meeting 
one  of  her  own  sex,  could  clasp  in  her  arms  the  most 
despised  harlot.  Let  her  fancy  that  she  has  journeyed 
or  lived  for  months,  or  if  that  be  not  sufficient,  for 
years,  in  the  society  and  presence  of  men  only — I  care 
not  that  she  has  been  treated  with  the  utmost  reverence 
and  the  tenderest  consideration  by  them — there  will 
come  a  time  when  the  sound  of  a  woman's  voice,  and 
the  sight  of  her  person,  and  the  words  of  her  blessed, 
intuitive,  deep-searching  speech  will  seem,  for  a  moment, 
like  the  opening  of  the  gates  of  heaven  to  her  weary, 
yearning,  unsatisfied  soul. 

Whatever  education  may  have  done  for  a  true 
Woman,  to  mislead  her  intellect  as  to  the  destiny  of 
Women,  she  cherishes  a  deep,  silent  faith  and  con- 
sciousness that,  given  right  circumstances,  time  to  heal 
wounds  and  correct  perversions,  they  will  turn  out 
lovable  and  worthy,  and  vindicate  her  trust  and  pride 
in  them.  This  trust  and  pride  confirm  to  her  the  rea- 
sonableness of  man's  worship,  however  absurdly,  ridicu- 
lously or  painfully  she  may  see  it  misplaced  upon 
individuals;  for  in  heart  and  brain  she  knows  that 
there  is  in  the  "Woman-nature  the  true,  actual  basis  for 
the  sentiment,  of  which  the  special  recipient  only,  is 
unworthy. 

She  rejoices,  silently,  if  not  with  demonstration,  at 
every  step  taken  in  the  development  of  new  conditions 
for  her  sex;  for  beside  that  she  naturally  and  sponta- 


296  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

neonsly  believes  in  good,  in  its  increase  and  nearer 
approach  to  us  through  all  changes,  she  longs  for  the 
hastening  of  the  day  that  shall  prove  before  the  world, 
the  being  in  whom  she  trusts ;  the  divinity  which  she 
feels,  sees,  and  knows,  in  a  thousand  unstateable  ways ; 
and  unfold  its  latent,  untried  powers  to  bless  mankind 
and  purify  life  of  its  selfishness  and  foulness. 

Woman  is  ever  ready,  with  the  open  ear  and  the 
tender  heart,  which  alone,  a  living  faith  in  any  high 
being  or  truth  can  inhabit,  to  receive  the  experiences, 
hear  of,  and  believe  in  febe  sufferings  of  Women  :  to 
forgive  their  errors,  both  of  intellect  and  feeling,  their 
blindness  and  short-comings,  and  to  pour  the  healing 
oil  of  a  tender,  reverential  sympathy  over  the  wounded 
self-respect  which  underlies  their  moral  hurt,  whatever 
its  degree. 

But  she  is  equally  ready  to  require  of  those  whom 
she  treats  thus,  the  faithfulness  to  Womanhood  in  them- 
selves and  others,  which  she  exercises.  She  exacts  the 
seeking  of  light,  not  darkness  and  content  therein.  She 
demands  courage  to  face,  for  the  truths  of  her  sex  and 
its  freedom  and  glory,  the  irritating  blasts  of  public 
opinion,  the  sneers  of  worldly  men  and  parasitic  women ; 
the  grim  displeasure  of  the  argus-eyed  beast,  society ; 
the  scornful  rejection,  the  proscription,  the  venom  of 
the  bigoted;  the  floods  of  low  abuse,  and  the  thinner, 
colder  currents  which  polite  life  is  ever  ready  to  let 
loose,  from  its  boreal  Lights,  upon  those  who  threaten 
the  solidity  of  its  gelid  structure  with  their  sympathies. 
A  Woman  exacts,  in  short,  from  one  of  her  sex,  the  ex- 
ercise, in  the  degree  that  they  are  present,  of  those 
moral  attributes,  the  culture  of  those  high  aims  and 
living  aspirations  which  make  her  life  and  power  what 
they  are,  and  she  can  rebate  nothing  from  these  de- 


POrULAR    SENTIMENT   AND    OBSERVATION.  297 

mauds  without  apostatizing  from  her  own  measure  of 
truth  and  faithfulness.  To  require  less  than  the  most 
that  is  attainable — lower  than  the  highest  that  can  be 
reached — good  merely  instead  of  the  best,  is  not  in  the 
nature  of  Woman,  except  as  each  is  a  means,  a  step 
towards  its  next  greater,  higher  and  better.  Compro- 
mise is  for  man :  long  stages,  slow  progress,  frequent 
halting-places  and  mistaking  them  for  the  goal,  (wit- 
ness his  nameless  and  numberless  systems  of  metaphy- 
sics, slowly  and  laboriously  dismissed  one  after  another, 
and  his  many  theologies  which  have  shared  and  are 
sharing  the  same  fate),  faith  in  the  lower  as  the  practi- 
cable, sensual,  tangible — and  infidelity  to  the  highest 
as  the  impracticable,  intangible  and  unreal — these  are 
features  of  his  era ;  measures  in  his  system  of  action, 
which,  perishable  though  they  be,  seem  to  him  primary 
and  enduring. 

But  from  this  creed,  Woman,  (not  always,  or  often, 
Women),  is  ever  a  dissenter ;  a  provoking  and  irritating 
one  sometimes ;  it  may  be  from  lack  of  fine,  sensitive 
judgment,  or  of  taste,  or  of  genuine  womanly  tact;  or 
from  a  stubborn,  because  unconquerable  earnestness  of 
soul,  that  will  be  subordinated  to  no  thing  or  quality 
inferior  to  itself.  But  with  the  reverence  and  tender- 
ness which  we  find  in  the  sentiment  of  Woman  toward 
Women,  these  demands  upon  them,  more  or  less  ex- 
pressed, more  or  less  clearly  felt,  always  co-exist,  and 
are  to  be  weighed  in  estimating  Woman's  appreciation 
of  her  sex.  For  a  nature  is  as  clearly  defined  in  what 
we  do  habitually  and  calmly  require  of  it,  as  in  what 
we  acknowledge  analytically  in  it;  and  Woman  differs 
from  Women  in  nothing  more  broadly  than  in  this  one 
expression  of  herself,  namely,  the  expectations  she  en- 
tertains of  Womankind,  and  her  persistent  adherence 
13* 


29S  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

to  them  in  the  face  of  repeated,  mortifying  and  painful 
disappointment  in  individuals,  and  in  defiance  of  the 
wise  admonishings  of  worldly,  prudent,  practical 
people,  backed  by  that  awful  mount  of  human  expe- 
rience, against  which  they  calmly  lean  in  uttering  them. 

..With  our  present  false  ideas,  it  takes  often  many 
years  to  make  a  Woman  out  of  her  who  will  finally 
arrive  at  that  high  estate.  The  girl-children  who  are 
born  intuitive,  brave,  clear-headed,  and  tender-hearted 
enough  to  take,  from  the  first,  their  place  in  the  ranks 
of  this  small,  exalted  company,  are  few.  A  few  more 
escape  after  a  brief  season  of  cloudy,  dim  wandering, 
among  the  quagmires  and  quicksands  of  public  opinion, 
custom,  and  conventional  order,  and  come  up,  while 
yet  in  youth,  to  their  places ;  but  in  these  days  the 
larger  number,  I  think,  of  those  who  are  true  repre- 
sentatives of  Womanhood,  reach  that  position  after 
much  struggle,  laborious  thinking  and  resolving ;  and, 
when  the  worldly  condition  is  one  of  dependence  on  man, 
or  of  self-dependence,  it  must  needs  be  in  general,  after 
much  courageous  renunciation  of  shallow  peace  in  the 
daily  life  ;  perhaps  of  comforts,  perhaps  of  friends,  and 
of  the  cordial  respect,  which  is  so  welcome  and  dear  to 
all  good  females,  because  they  feel  instinctively  it  is 
their  due,  and  are  wounded  both  in  their  self-love  and 
their  love  of  harmony  when  it  is  withheld. 

Need  I  add  to  the  fore^oin^,  that  the  beins,-  therein 
sketched  is  not  a  distruster  of  Womanhood,  however 
she  may  be  called  on  to  lament  the  perversions,  follies 
and  selfishness  of  her  sex  ;  or  to  admonish,  rej:>rove, 
rebuke  and  even  judge  numbers  of  its  faithless  rep- 
resentatives ?  I  feel  it  cannot  be  necessary,  yet  I  will 
appeal  to  every  Woman  who  reads  these  pages,  to  con- 
firm their  truth  to  cavilers,  if  she  meets  with  such,  by 


POPULAR  SENTIMENT  AND  OBSERVATION.     290 

an  unshrinking  statement  of  her  self-knowledge,  a  can- 
did utterance  of  her  unquenchable  yearnings  for  the 
pure,  the  unselfish,  the  best — to  furnish  the  test  of  her 
own  faithfulness  by  confessing  the  pain  with  which  she 
detects  any  self-wavering  in  her  devotion  to  truth — to 
declare  if  her  aspiration  does  not  always  live,  in  an 
ardent  desire  for  true  growth,  and  if  her  consciousness 
does  not  report  the  high  origin,  capacity  and  destiny 
of  her  nature  in  steadfast  leaning  toivard  the  divine, 
unseen  as  the  real  good,  in  opposition  to  the  earthly 
and  seen  f 

I  know  that  I  address  a  small  audience  in  these 
words,  but  I  know  also  that  it  grows  from  year  to  year, 
and  proves  itself  thus,  no  less  than  in  its  opinions  and 
positions,  the  party  to  which  we  are  to  look  for  the 
affirmation  of  Womanhood  before  itself  and  the  world. 
May  the  few  speak  the  Truth,  in  fear  of  nothing  but 
Falsehood. 

III. — Of  Woman  and  Women  toicard  Woman. 

Very  little  need  be  added,  I  apprehend,  to  illustrate 
to  the  attentive  reader,  if  she  or  he  has  not  already  con- 
sidered it,  what  must  be  the  sentiment  of  both  the  par- 
ties defined  in  the  preceding  pages  toward  the  smaller 
of  them,  either  individually  or  collectively.  We  have 
by  this  time  become  acquainted  with  too  many  of  the 
truths  underlying  long  familiar  outward  signs  in  human 
life ;  and  have  seen  too  much  of  their  coherent  harmo- 
nious relation  to  each  other,  not  to  be  prepared,  in 
advance  of  all  statement  and  illustration,  to  affirm  that 
Woman — the  Representative  of  Womanhood — must  be 
universally  revered,  trusted  and  beloved  by  her  sex,  as 
the  purest  exemplar  on  earth  of  the  Divine,  the  true 


300  WOMAN   AND    HER    ERA. 

possible,  if  not  always  the  actual,  practical,  working 
source  of  highest  good  to  humanity. 

That  her  sex  should  so  revere  and  repose  in  her,  for 
the  good  which  man  cannot  give  to  his  race,  is  as  natural 
and  necessary  as  that  flowers  should  bloom  when  the 
south  wind  blows,  or  stars  shine  when  the  sun  is  in 
the  nadir.  The  moral  attraction  of  the  one  to  the  other 
is,  by  a  law  of  their  natures,  as  universal  and  invaria- 
ble as  that  by  which  the'  aroma  rises  from  the  rose  or 
the  apple,  or  the  spirit  of  calm  and  content  is  exhaled 
from  a  cultured,  varied,  and  peaceful  landscape. 

But  it  is  needful,  perhaps,  that  something  be  said 
of  the  sentiment  of  the  larger  party  of  her  sex,  which  I 
have  designated  as  Women — something  of  it  as  a  fact 
in  social  conditions — something  of  its  expression  and 
suppression,  and  the  causes  that  favor  each.  Women 
reverence  and  admire  Woman  invariably,  if  their  dis- 
tance from  her  in  time  or  space  be  sufficient  to  preserve 
them  against  annoyance  from  the  exercise  of  the  quali- 
ties that  make  her  Woman  instead  of  one  of  themselves. 
They  are  often  capable  of  revering  and  loving  her  as  a 
neighbor  and  friend  ;  even  as  a  critic  and  judge,  though 
her  criticism  and  judgment  be  upon  themselves.  But 
these  are  exceptions  rather  than  the  rule  toward  Wo- 
man, the  cotemporary,  the  country-woman,  or  neighbor. 
We  like  that  she  should  do  her  work  and  let  the  pleas- 
ant, peaceful,  creditable  report  of  it,  so  comforting  to 
our  self-love  as  Women,  come  to  us  from  another  Con- 
tinent or  a  preceding  generation  ;  and  thus,  when  we 
have  been  spared  the  soil  and  dust  of  her  conflicts — 
their  trials  and  humiliations — the  slander,  abuse  and 
.misunderstanding  they  have  provoked — when  only  the 
sweet  pseans  of  praise  and  the  honoring  songs  of  vic- 
tory come  to  us,  we  too  wreathe  the  laurel  and  chant 


POrULAK    SENTIMENT    AND  OBSERVATION.  301 

the  hymn,  and  praise  the  victor — praising  ourselves 
the  while  in  praising  her,  "whom,  had  she  prayed  our 
help  in  her  work,  we  might  have  denied ;  and  so  we 
accord  what  cannot  be  withheld  from  her  high  com- 
mand— our  love  and  admiration. 

There  is  no  failure  of  the  reverence  of  Women 
toward  Woman  under  such  circumstances;  of  their 
pride  in  her,  and  their  grateful  acceptance  of  their  per- 
sonal share  of  the  credit  she  may  have  won.  Let  the 
most  radical  and  troublesome  genuine  woman  of  any 
day  or  community,  be  transported  to  another  country, 
or  put  a  generation  away  from  those  who  sneer  at  her 
and  her  labors,  and  let  her  life  be  honestly  reported  to 
them,  exhibiting  fairly  its  love  of  the  Good  and  the 
True ;  its  delicate  and  unfailing  recognition  of  the 
rights  of  life,  its  tenderness  to  the  suffering,  its  earnest 
aspiration  and  helpfulness  to  the  needy,  either  in  soul 
or  body — above  all,  let  it  be  understood  that  she  added 
these  good  works  to  the  natural  affections  and  cares  of 
a  woman's  life  ;  to  the  household  relations,  the  atten- 
tions due  to  her  family,  or,  as  many  have  done,  to 
the  labors  of  self-support,  and  there  will  infallibly  be 
secured  to  her  a  place  high  in  the  honoring  sentiment 
of  Womankind.  The  dead  and  the  alive  will  agree  in 
giving  her  praise,  the  latter  because  they  would  do  it 
as  the  true  and  just  thing  in  any  case,  the  former  be- 
cause she  is  at  a  safe  distance,  and  neither  disturbs 
their  ease  nor  urges  any  present  and  annoying  trial  of 
the  standards  of  their  community,  especially  those  of 
its  grand  tribunal,  the  masculine  judgment. 

From  all  slavery  there  must  come,  according  to  its 
character  and  duration,  a  more  or  less  painful,  dispro- 
portionate development  of  certain  attributes  in  the 
nature  of  the  enslaved.  In  our  sex,  whose  bondage,  in  one 


302  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

form  or  another,  has  been  from  the  beginning  of  human 
existence  to  this  day,  the  most  manifest  fruit  of  the 
condition  has  been  what  it  always  is,  in  some  measure, 
an  overgrown,  overruling  desire  to  please  those  who 
dispose  their  fortunes  and  dispense  comforts  or  priva- 
tions, pleasures  or  pains  to  them.  So  that  we  now 
witness  an  absolutely  absurd,  grotesque  education  of 
this  sentiment — nay,  its  actual  transformation  in  the 
practical  lives  of  millions  of  civilized  women,  into  a 
passion,  whose  reckless  selfishness  converts  its  possess- 
ors from  Women  into  human  apes,  and  the  society  to 
which  they  belong,  into  a  wide  menagerie,  where  she 
is  most  conspicuous  and  pleasing  to  the  assembled  spec- 
tators, who  most  apostatizes  from  her  own  nature,  and 
ouilds,  molds,  and  fashions  on  the  original  foundation, 
an  artificial  creature  for  their  pleasing — making  them 
first  and  nature  second ;  the  compliment  the  more  to 
be  appreciated  as  the  latter  is  more  effectually  put  out 
of  sight  in  the  result. 

The  evils  which  spring  from  such  distortion  of  the 
affection al  nature  are  numerous,  and  some  of  them  press 
with  an  inflexible  and  mournfully  destructive  weight 
upon  the  personal  and  social  character  of  Women.  A 
female  who  is  determined  to  be  admired,  even  though 
admiration  be  won  at  the  cost  of  self-respect,  of  social, 
intellectual  aud  moral  faithfulness,  and  be  paid  for  by 
the  concealment  or  sacrifice  of  real  opinions  as  to  mea- 
sures, or  as  to  persons  who  may  be  unpopular  with  the 
admirers ;  by  the  suppression  of  growing  convictions 
and  honestly  entertained  views,  and  the  utterance,  in 
their  stead,  of  rude,  idle  speech,  despised  formulas,  or 
open,  though  perhaps  bleached  falsehood ;  by  various 
affectations  of  sentiment  which  never  existed  save  in 
their  most  latent  form  in  her  mind — such  a  person 


POPULAR    SENTIMENT   AND    OBSERVATION.  303 


\ 


lives  in  the  daily  prostitution  of  the  best  and  sweetest 
attributes  which  the  wisdom  and  love  of  God  could 
fashion  into  the  noble  harmony  of  her  exalted  nature. 
She  hourly  tramples  under  her  feet  the  richest  oppor- 
tunities that  life  can  afford  to  an  immortal  soul,  oppor- 
tunities of  truthfulness,  faithfulness,  and  of  high 
triumphs  through  them,  which,  once  touched  and 
tasted,  would  fill  her  bosom  with  shame  at  the  bare 
memory  of  what  she  had  been  seeking  and  craving  in 
their  stead.  She  is  in  a  dangerous  way  for  the  attain- 
ment of  growth  and  the  unfolding  of  the  real  worth 
whose  germs  are  in  her.  Grapes  may  be  gathered  of 
thorns  and  figs  of  thistles,  as  naturally  as  true  senti- 
ments towards  those  of  her  sex  whose  lives  and  theories 
visibly  and  practically  rebuke  her  weakness,  folly  or 
wickedness,  may  find  a  place  in  her  disordered,  famish- 
ing soul.  Her  social  creed  is  a  jumble  of  inconsisten- 
cies or  open  contradictions,  of  which,  in  her  anxiety  to 
secure  its  acceptance  by  those  who  are  to  judge  her,  to 
admire  or  criticise  her  by  it,  she  is  often  ludicrously 
unconscious. 

These  motives,  acting  writh  the  intensity  which  a 
narrow,  thin  life,  allows  them  in  such  natures,  often 
lead  Women  to  violate,  in  expression,  their  genuine  sen- 
timent toward  Woman.  They  may  dispraise  in  their 
speech,  while  in  their  hearts  they  pay  the  homage 
which  nature  will  not  suffer  them  to  withhold.  Or 
perhaps,  disturbed  by  her  demands  upon  them  and 
upon  the  society,  out  of  whose  superficial  luster  they 
have  no  hope  of  shining,  they  utter  sneers  in  the  draw- 
ing-room which  they  may  sigh  or  weep  over  in  the  un- 
reserved self-communion  of  the  chamber.  But  beyond 
and  above  these  false  conditions,  and  that  other  deplora- 
ble one  of  sheer,  stolid  ignorance,  Woman  is  uniformly 


304  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

revered  by  "Women.  Is  there,  for  example,  any  worldly, 
shallow,  flippant  girl,  so  worldly,  shallow  and  flippant 
that  she  would  dare  to  utter  a  sneer,  or  smile  in  sympa- 
thy with  one,  at  Elizabeth  Fry,  Madam  Roland,  Mar- 
garet Fuller,  Miss  Dix,  Mary  Somerville  or  Florence 
Nightingale,  provided  that  she  knew  the  actual  facts 
of  their  lives  and  labors?  Not  unless  she  is  also  an 
imbecile. 

Is  there  one  of  the  many,  many  worldly,  selfish 
"Women,  however  eager  for  her  fill  of  admiration  and 
applause,  who  would  venture  anywhere  but  in  the  com- 
pany of  fools,  to  speak  light  or  derogatory  words  of  the 
obscurest  or  the  most  brilliant  "Woman,  whose  history, 
fairly  stated  before  her  auditory,  had  shown  a  life  of 
earnest,  helpful  activities;  sympathy  for  the  unfortu- 
nate ;  wise  guidance  to  the  bewildered ;  reverence  for 
the  rights  of  all,  the  lowly  as  well  as  the  exalted,  the 
depraved  as  well  as  the  innocent ;  and  ever  abiding 
faithfulness  to  the  truth  ?  If  there  be  I  have  never  met 
her.  If  you  believe  otherwise,  prove  my  statement  by 
taking  up  the  cause  of  any  such  "Woman,  in  the  most 
external  circle  where  you  find  her  name  introduced; 
state  it  with  entire  fairness  but  earnestness,  and  watch 
the  vanishing  complacency  of  the  shallow  faces,  as  it 
grows  before  them,  through  your  speech  ;  see  the  care- 
less eyes  droop,  and  here  and  there  grow  dim  with  the 
clew  of  appreciation  ;  hear  the  half-breathed  or  openly 
avowed  assent  and  approval  that  will  echo  your  own 
feeling,  and  say  then  if  these  Women  do  not  in  their 
souls  reverence  that  "Woman.  I  care  not  that  she  was 
scoffed  at  in  the  day  of  her  action  as  "  strong-minded," 
"unsexed,"  "forgetful  of  her  sphere,"  "masculine," 
and  so  on.  Let  her  but  get  her  work  done,  and  your 
candid  relation  of  it,  with  whatever  scorn  or  ridicule  it 


TOrULAR    SENTIMENT   AND   OBSERVATION.  305 

provoked  in  the  doing,  shall  infallibly  command  for 
her  and  yourself  a  respectful  hearing  from  any  circle 
of  Women.  Her  scoffers  and  abusers  will  be  denounced, 
and  she  and  her  narrator  will  receive  acknowledgment 
and  sympathy.  Because  the  female  sotd,  whatever  the 
evidence  of  the  clacking  tongue,  always  responds  to 
noble  work  and  pure  purposes ;  and,  seeing,  reveres 
them  anywhere,  in  Woman  as  well  as  in  man — in  her 
the  more  that  there  has  never  been  a  day  in  which  she 
could  perform  them,  no  matter  what  her  capacity,  on 
any  scale  larger  than  the  household  or  neighborhood 
one,  without  having  first  surmounted  almost  insupera- 
ble difficulties.  Thus  foolish,  thoughtless  AVomen, 
either  the  young  and  untaught  of  experience,  or  worse, 
the  old  in  years  yet  still  untaught  by  that  matchless 
teacher,  may  upon  provocation,  speak  lightly  or  even 
bitterly,  of  the  cotemporary  near  Woman  who  disturbs 
the  stagnant  waters  about  them ;  but  their  real,  inner 
sentiment  is  not  expressed  in  such  speech.  They  utter 
that  in  calmer  hours  of  deeper  feeling  :  moments  of 
finer  insight  which  come,  if  ever  so  rarely,  to  all ;  sea- 
sons when  the  perceptions,  the  intellect  and  the  affections 
shine  unclouded,  as  they  will  temporarily  at  the  worst, 
out  of  the  lives  of  all  Women ;  and  more  than  all — 
more  profoundly,  sacredly  and  above  every  manner  of 
question,  do  Women  prove  their  trust  in,  and  love  for 
their  sex,  in  their  appeal  to  it  for  sympathy  and  under- 
standing in  their  higher  and  rarer  experiences,  whether 
happy  or  unhappy.  However  assiduously  and  unscru- 
pulously they  may  court  the  praises  or  strive  for  the 
affection  of  men ;  however  they  may  dance  idly  for 
their  admiration,  and  become,  as  many  do,  mere  glit- 
tering insects  in  its  shining,  the  time  comes  ultimately 
when  they  turn  away,  sick  and  unsatisfied,  yearning 


306  WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

for  the  sympathy  of  a  life  capable  of  addressing  itself 
more  deeply  and  religiously  to  their  interior  nature. 
And  thus  in  their  hours  of  deep  grief  or  profound  hap- 
piness, when  they  mount  the  peaks  flushed  with  the 
warm  light  of  Hope,  or  descend  into  the  valleys  still 
and  dark  with  the  leaden  twilight  of  suffering,  all 
Women  make  their  appeal  to  Woman.  It  is  ever  her 
hand  they  reach  to  clasp  in  theirs,  ever  a  Woman's  eye 
which  they  yearn  with  aching  heart  to  look  into ;  ever 
a  Woman's  bosom  on  which  they  long  to  lean  for  sup- 
port in  their  anguish,  and  repose  in  their  happiness. 
Though  the  lover's  homage  move  her,  or  the  husband's 
noble,  pure  affection  make  her  count  herself  the  blest 
among  women  ;  though  the  brother's  abiding,  protective 
love,  or  the  son's  reverent,  watchful  care,  enrich  and 
content  her — every  Woman  still  craves  another  as  the 
sharer  of  her  feelings  ;  of  these  no  less  than  any.  The 
best  man,  and  the  noblest  friend  she  can  possess  in  the 
other  sex,  outside  of  these  relations,  is  insufficient  for 
those  sacred  experiences,  which,  as  they  can  come  only 
to  Women,  can  also  only  by  Women  be  understood 
and  appreciated.  And  she  will  accept  an  inferior  female, 
if  none  other  be  near,  before  a  noble  man,  for  many 
such  confidences,  because  into  the  kingdom  of  her  life 
whither  she  must  invite  and  sit  down  with  the  friend 
of  that  hour,  he  cannot  enter.  It  must  be  a  sister 
Woman  who  comes  there. 

Moreover,  as  the  slavery  of  women  becomes  modi- 
fied through  the  spread  of  more  liberal  ideas  of  them, 
and  a  consequent  braver  self-assertion  by  the  good  and 
true,  the  whole  body  of  intelligent  faith  in  Women 
toward  their  sex,  becomes  year  by  year,  broader,  more 
firmly  knitted,  more  clear,  persistent,  unwavering  and 
sustaining. 


POPULAR    SENTIMENT    AND   OBSERVATION.  307 

If  we  consider  that  in  a  perpetuated  slavery  like 
ours,  many  of  the  tendencies  to  falseness  and  moral 
dislocation  are  cumulative  from  age  to  age,  growing 
into  every  generation  from  its  own  practical  experiences, 
and  descending  by  inheritance  from  each  to  the  next ; 
that  not  only  the  natural  sentiments  and  feelings  have 
become  thus  perverted  in  themselves,  but  that  the 
courage  to  speak  out  what  social  bondage  bids  us  hide, 
can  hence  be  moved,  in  the  mass  of  Women ,  only  by  a  sup- 
port which  assures  them  of  sympathy  ;  and  that  we  have 
but  just  reached  that  point  of  devolution  within  the 
second  quarter  of  this  ^Nineteenth  century  when  Ideas 
can  come  to  our  aid  and  emancipation,  no  earnest  lover 
of  our  sex  can  fail  to  find  in  its  position  to-day,  abun- 
dant cause  for  rejoicing,  and  rich  inspiration  to  noble 
faith  in  its  future.  Within  fifty  years,  to  go  no  farther 
back,  Woman  has  done  for  herself  a  vast  work — an  in- 
itiative work,  of  which  the'consequences  can,  at  present, 
be  but  imperfectly  estimated  by  the  most  prophetic  soul. 
And,  while  we  cannot  forget  that  this  Revolution  has 
its  foundations  in  the  preceding  labors  of  man — the  dis- 
coveries, sciences,  arts  and  systems  which  he  has 
developed — so  neither  ought  it  to  be  forgotten  that  our 
deepest  need  of  it  also  springs  from  him — his  selfish- 
ness, his  love  of  power,  his  coldness  to  justice — the  pro- 
fessed law  of  his  era — and  his  forgetfulness  of  equal 
rights.  The  systems  and  conditions  to  be  revolution- 
ized are  the  fruits  of  his  sovereignty,  and  the  remote 
truths  upon  which  the  approaching  revolution  is  based, 
are  of  his  discovery;  but  it  is  Woman  who  must  make 
their  application,  and  follow  them  up  to  their  high 
sources,  in  the  divine  of  her  own  nature,  and  the 
higher  divine  to  which  she  is  of  nearer  kindred  than 
man.     It  is  she  who  must  show  of  them  fairer  flowers 


308  WOMAN   AND    HER    ERA. 

and  more  delicious  fruit  than  he  could  ever  find.  It  is 
she  who,  leading  the  career  of  inquiry  into  human  na- 
ture, beyond  the  point  where  he  stops,  arrested  by  the 
fineness  and  subtil ety  which  he  cannot  grasp,  from  lack 
of  fineness  and  subtilety  in  himself,  must  carry  forward 
the  work  in  her  own  behalf,  and  thus  verify  the  eternal 
prophecy  that  who  would  enjoy  freedom,  must  first 
win  it. 

In  othing  is  clearer  than  that  Woman  must  lead  her 
own  revolution;  not  alone  because  it  is  hers,  and  that 
no  other  being  can  therefore  have  her  interest  in  its 
achievement,  but  because  it  is  for  a  life  whose  highest 
needs  and  rights — those  to  be  redressed  in  its  suc- 
cess— lie  above  the  level  of  man's  experiences  or  com- 
prehension. Only  Woman  is  sufficient  to  state  Woman's 
claims  and  vindicate  them.  Hence  the  deep  heart-joy 
that  is  felt  in  each  one  of  those  who,  with  the  courage 
and  firmness  of  her  sex,  tempered  with  its  gentle- 
ness, stands  up  in  the  armor  of  God's  high  truths ;  makes 
her  presence  known  through  them,  and  announces  that 
she  comes  to  demand  emancipation  in  His  name.  Vic- 
tory is  hers  when  she  rises.  If  the  sun  shines,  the  air 
must  move ;  swiftly  or  slowly.  If  the  stream  set  out, 
it  must  reach  the  ocean  at  last.  If  the  sap  circulate, 
the  budding  life  must  testify  of  its  track  and  motions. 
Effect  must  follow  cause,  and  Woman  in  the  attitude  of 
revolt  against  man's  sovereignty  over  her,  is  as  sure  a 
prophet  of  its  overthrow,  as  the  sun  of  wind,  the  current 
of  a  lower  level,  and  sap  of  buds,  leaves  and  flowers. 
Her  pretensions  and  efforts  are  oftener  derided  now  be- 
cause of  the  weakness,  apathy,  or  opposition  of  selfish, 
undeveloped  or  parasitic  women,  than  for  any  or  all  other 
causes  combined.  The  outward  strength  and  dignity 
of  revolt  are  in  the  cohesion  and  mutual  confidence  of 


POPULAR    SENTIMENT   AND  OBSERVATION.  309 

those  engaged  in  it ;  and  men,  who  judge  a  cause  rather 
by  the  outward,  visible  signs  of  its  strength ;  and  who 
are  less  apt  to  estimate  moral  force  and  the  gravity  of 
irresistible  truth,  than  numbers  of  supporters  and  their 
affiliation,  laugh  at  the  idea  of  a  revolt  in  behalf  of 
Woman,  which  seven-tenths  of  the  sex  reject  and  even 
ridicule  more  bitterly  than  themselves. 

But  it  cannot  be  difficult,  I  apprehend,  for  any  fair- 
minded  person  to  see,  first,  in  the  nature  of  the  cause 
the  guarantee  of  its  sure  success,  as  founded  upon  the 
deepest  and  highest  need  of  humanity,  viz.  :  its  need  of 
capacity  for  spiritual  freedom  and  culture,  a  capacity 
everywhere  desired,  but  as  yet  nowhere  realized,  save 
in  the  souls  of  a  few  women  and  men ;  and,  second,  in 
the  fact  of  its  progress,  proof  of  the  rapidly  cumulating 
forces  necessary  to  its  accomplishment,  the  most  essen- 
tial of  these  being  the  growing  sentiment  in  women, 
of  trust,  confidence,  and  respect  toward  those  of  their 
own  sex  to  whom  nature  assigns  its  conduct. 

To  estimate  its  strength  at  this  point,  make  a  cata- 
logue of  the  names  of  females  who  have  left  evidences 
of  their  position  in  the  world  of  thought  and  action 
within  the  last  half  century ;  sum  up  their  works,  grave 
and  light,  fictitious  and  substantial  (omitting  the  many 
that  bring  no  strength  to  Woman  or  her  cause),  their 
books,  Art,  philanthropies,  reforms — educational  and 
social ;  weigh  their  opinions  in  behalf  of  social  and 
moral  freedom,  the  steadily  increasing  assertion  for 
Woman,  shown  in  their  works  of  every  sort,  whether 
literary,  artistic  or  humane,  and  in  the  journals  ;  meet- 
ings and  discussions,  called  and  conducted  wholly  or 
in  part  by  them — the  augmentation  of  real  powder,  indi- 
vidual,, moral,  social,  industrial  and  spiritual  in  their 
hands — the  daring  aspiration  in  the  eye  with  which 


310  "WOMAN    AND    HER    ERA. 

they  survey  their  future — the  keen,  religious  purpose 
of  realization  which  animates  thousands  of  them,  and 
the  growing  pride  in  the  leaders  of  these  movements, 
now  liberally  expressed  in  lieu  of  the  derision,  contempt, 
and  jeering  of  twenty  years  gone,  and  you  will  see 
that  the  sentiment  of  the  sex  toward  its  representatives 
amply  justifies  their  faith,  as  Women,  in  the  cause  they 
are  conducting. 

Even  women  who  take  the  dicta  of  men  chiefly,  for 
wrhat  is  respectable,  are  not  now  ashamed  to  approve 
the  female  Poets  and  Artists;  the  Authors  and  Reform- 
ers ;  the  Doctors  and  Ministers ;  the  Philanthropists 
and  Travelers ;  the  Printers  and  Engravers ;  nor  to 
second  the  entrance  of  females  upon  any  walk  of  life 
or  occupation,  no  matter  how  exclusively  held  hereto- 
fore by  men — provided  that  it  has  been  well  proved  by 
a  few  self-poised,  heroic  women,  that  it  is  possible  to 
succeed  in  it  without  being  a  man,  or  becoming  mas- 
culine. For,  after  all  discussion  of  spheres  and  places, 
in  the  long  run,  success  in  any  position  is  warrant  for 
taking  it,  and  compels  respect  to  its  occupant,  whether 
woman  or  man. 

And  thus  every  Woman  is  a  revolutionist,  to  the 
extent  that  she  innovates  the  old,  narrow  standards, 
whether  in  practical  doing  or  theoretical  statement, 
thereby  augmenting  the  self-respect,  self-reliance  and 
resolution  of  her  sex,  and  their  respect  for  their  true 
representative  Woman,  in  whatever  capacity  she  may 
appear  to  claim  it.  Urging  her  way  bravely  to  success, 
she  enlarges  the  measure  of  mutual  trust  and  sympathy 
among  Women  ;  gives  additional  courage  to  the  faint- 
hearted ;  firmness  to  the  doubtin  :  decision  to  the 
vacillating  ;  and  earnestness  to  t  e  idle,  sycophantic 
hangers-on  by  man's  exclusive  pretensions. 


POPULAR    SENTIMENT   AND    OBSERVATION.  311 

Wherever  Woman  as  Thinker,  Worker,  Artist, 
Reformer,  Philanthropist,  presses  her  way  individually 
to  honorable  recognition,  she  leaves  a  broad,  inviting 
path  behind  her,  in  which  others  of  her  sex  will  infalli- 
bly follow  her  leading,  and  gain  assurance  and  renewed 
determination  at  every  sight  of  her  advancing  foot- 
prints. And  in  this  day,  the  most  needed  service  to 
humankind  is  that  which  will  commend  Women  to  con- 
fidence in  themselves  and  their  sex,  as  the  leading  force 
of  the  Coming  Eea — the  Era  of  spiritual  ride  and 
movement ;  in  which,  through  them,  the  race  is  destined 
to  rise  to  a  more  exalted  position  than  ever  before  it 
lias  held,  and  for  the  first  time  to  form  its  dominant 
ties  of  relationship  to  that  world  of  purer  action  and 
diviner  motion,  which  lies  above  the  material  one  of 
intellectual  struggle  and  selfish  purpose  wherein  man 
has  held  and  exercised  his  long  sovereignty. 


CONTENTS 


PART    I. 


CHAPTER    I. 

General  View. 

PAGE 

Truth  the  grand  aim  of  the  human  mind,      ...         -       9 

Its  two  great  divisions,  Subjective  and  Objective  Truth. 
These  defined  and  illustrated.  Objective  Truths  ap- 
pear in  Forms  and  Phenomena — Subjective  Truths  in 
the  human  being — The  orderly  statement  of  Truths,  with 
their  Facts,  Science,  -        -        -        -        -        -        10 

Intuitive  and  Inductive  Methods  of  arriving  at  Truth.  Uni- 
versality of  the  former,  in  affording  first  perceptions  of 
Truth  to  the  human  mind.  One  of  these  the  truth  of 
the  superiority  of  the  Feminine  over  the  Masculine,        -     13 

How  Truths  reveal  themselves  to  Man — their  order  of  coming 
— the  Philosophers  and  Metaphysicians.  Gall.  His 
Method,  and  his  System.  Value  of  the  Metaphysical 
works, 17 

Science  of  Humanity,  the  youngest  of  the  Sciences.  Our 
work  and  methods,  Civil,  Social  and  Religious,  before  its 
advent.  Conflict  between  the  Material  and  the  Spiritual 
Methods  and  tendencies.  Their  final  harmony  and  utter 
coalescence  of  results  inevitable, 23 

Signs  of  this  stage  already  apparent.  Recognition  of  Woman 
the  very  highest  and  clearest  of  these.  To  define  and 
establish  this,  the  object  of  the  present  work,  -         -     25 

u 


314  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER    II. 
Organic     Argument. 

PAGE 

The  Syllogism,        ...-  ...25 

Revolutionary  Character  of  the  New  Idea  of  Woman,     -        -     26 
Nature's  testimony  in  her  organization,  29 

Differentiation  proof  of  exaltation,  -         -         -         -         -     30 

Organization  a  Means  to  the  End  of  Development,   -         -         36 
Functional    Capacity    the    object   of  elaboration    in    living 

structures, 37 

General  Physiological  Argument — Definition  of  Phy- 
siology :  Animal  and  Vegetable ;  Comparative,  and 
Masculine  and  Feminine  Physiology,  -  -  -  -  38 
Sex  a  grade  of  Development,  ...  -  39 
Relative  importance  of  Masculine  and  Feminine  to  offspring. 
Reasons  for  believing  the  latter  most  potent,  when  de- 
veloped,   41 

Why  Men  have  not  discovered  these  reasons,  54 

Procreation  the   highest  function  of  life.     Reasons  for  be- 
lieving that  the  Feminine  gives  life,  and  the  Masculine 

Nutriment, --55 

Physiological  changes  in  the  Feminine,  -         -         -  56 

The  three  physiological  periods  of  Woman,  proof  of  her  or- 
ganic exaltation.    Character  of  these  periods,  and  change 

from  one  to  the  other  discussed, 58 

The  latest  of  them  and  how  she  approaches  it.     Impossibility 
of  Man's  understanding  it,  or  sympathizing  with  her  Ex- 
periences, except  from  an  intellectual  point  of  view,       -     67 
Old  Age  in  Woman.     The  "  Old  Woman"  and  Woman.    The 
last  period  the  highest  and  richest  of  her  life — that  of 
regenerative  or  spiritual,  as  distinguished  from  genera- 
tive or  corporeal  maternity,  -  -  -  -     72 

Testimony  of  the  Nerve  Structure.     Draper  on  Nerve- 
matter,  and  its  value  in  the  living  being.     Intra-Cranial 
and  Extra  Cranial  system*     Masculine    and  Feminine 
compared,  -  -  -  -  -  -     74 

Woman's  comparative  size  and  quality  of  brain.   Tiedemann,     76 
Her  special  Nerve-Endowments,  and  the  susceptibility  accom- 
panying them,       -  -  -  -  -  -     78 


CONTEXTS.  315 

PAOB 

Remarks  on  Feminine  Pathology.  Feminine  Pathology  pre- 
supposes Feminine  Physiology.  The  law,  Size,  cet. 
par. :  a  Measure  of  Power  applied  to  the  Masculine  and 
Feminine  structures,  to  determine  their  offices  and  spheres 
of  action,       -         -  -  -  -  -  -     81 

-Nature  and  methods  of  each,  as  exhibited  by  this  law.  Wo- 
man not  Man  in  natural  character,  any  more  than  in  or- 
ganization. Her  development  not  to  come  through  liken- 
ing herself  to  him,  -  -  -  -  -     89 

Honored  Maternity  condition  precedent  of  permanency 
in  Civilization,  and  of  enduring  social  growth.  Illustra- 
tions ;  American  Aborigines.  Egypt,  Greece  and  Rome, 
in  their  treatment  of  Woman.  Maternity  to  crown  all 
and  subordinate  all  to  its  perfect  performance,         -         -     93 

Susceptibility  an  organic  feature  of  the  Feminine  through 

its  superior  nerve-gifts.     Definition,  -  -  -     94 

The  strong-minded  Woman,  is  the  Woman  who  lacks  it.  Its 
common  manifestation  in  Women,  and  its  normal  use  in 
AVoman,        --  -  -  -  -  -90 

lludimentary  Organs :  their  natural  language.  Prophetic  of 
a  higher  being,  in  whom  they  will  be  carried  up  to  the 
functional  stage  of  development,  -  -  -     99 

The  Mammae  in  the  Masculine  human  a  Rudiment — Mr. 
Darwin.  Reasons  for  supposing  that  there  is  no  rudi- 
mentary part  in  the  organization  of  Woman,         -  -  102 

Beautv  of  Woman  a  proof  of  her  exaltation  above  Man.  Its 
universal  language  in  the  kingdoms  of  Nature — In 
those  of  life.  Superior  beauty  of  the  Female  among  the 
lower  animals.     Dr.  Redfield  on  this  question,         -         -  106 

Human  faces — beard  of  Man  and  the  delicacy  of  the  Femi- 
nine countenance ;  their  respective  positions  broadly 
hinted  at  in  this  diiference  alone,  ...  107 

Resume  of  the  Organic  Argument,  and  Conclusion  that  Wo- 
man is  the  NATURAL  SOVEREIGN  OF  THE  LIFE  OF  OUR 
GLOBE, 109 


316  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

PAET    II. 

CHAPTER    I  . 
Religious    Argument. 
Moral  Superiority  of  Woman,  -  -  -     v-  115 

The  Syllogism,  ------  HG 

Power ;  its  significance  in  the  life.     Powers  j  their  relations 

to  Development,    -  -  -  -  -  -117 

Moral  claims  for  Woman,  harmonized  with  what  has  been 
shown  of  her  Organic  Superiority.  Appeal  for  proof  that 
the  attributed  or  deduced  character  is  her  true  one,        -  120 

Evidence  of  Mythology.     The  gods  and  goddesses.    Their 

Character  and  offices,  -  129 

Evidence  or  Theology  :  I,  The  Old  Dispensation — Genesis 
examined — Eve's  conduct  considered  in  a  somewhat  new 
light — The  narrative  speaks  for  itself,  and  is  clear  and 
plain  as  to  the  moral  superiority  of  the  Woman  in  Eden,  145 

II,  New  Dispensation.  Woman's  part  in  introducing  it 
on  the  earth.  Mary  and  Peter  as  types  of  Feminine  and 
Masculine,  in  their  attitude  toward  the  Christian  truths 
and  practices, 146 

CHAPTER    II. 

Esthetic    Argument. 

I,  Painting   and   Sculpture,         ...  -  152 
Some  general  remarks.     Reasons  why  the  testimony  in  this 

department  of  inquiry  is  scanty.  WToman  the  Inspira- 
tion of  the  Artist,  -  -  -  -  154 
Reverence  with  which  it  treats  her.  Art  likens  Masculine  to 
Feminine,  in  refining  and  exalting  it;  but  never  Femi- 
nine to  Masculine,  save  to  exhibit  degeneracy  or  hard- 
ness. Angelic  the  recognized  type  of  the  Feminine. 
Michael  Angelo's  Last  Judgment,            -             -             -  156 

II,  Poetry,  like  Painting  and  Sculpture,  an  unconscious  wit- 

ness to  the  superior  exaltation  of  the  Feminine.  Why  so,  160 
Shakspeare  as  witness — Character  of  his  genius.     His  treat- 
ment of  Woman,  ...  .  1G4 
Spenser's  recognition  of  her.  Why  clearer.     Extracts  from 
Spenser,  Wordsworth,  Shelley,  Schiller,  Lowell,  Tenny- 
son,   Clough,    Bailey,    Jewsbury,   Channing,    Patmore, 


I  <>\  I  EN  i>.  317 

PAOH 

Massey,  and  others.  Conclusion — Art,  which  achieves 
the  clearest  seeing  of  Woman,  acknowledges  and  honors 
the  Feminine  in  Man  or  Woman,  in  proportion  to  its  dis- 
tinct and  pure  Feminine  character,  -  -  -  187 

CHAPTER    III. 

Historic    Argument. 

General  glance  at  Historic  Aims  and  Methods.    "Why  it  must 

neglect  Woman  while  these  remain  what  they  are,         -  190 

Mr.  Buckle.  His  trust  in  the  Intellect.  Relation  of  the  In- 
tellect to  Truth.  Relation  of  the  Spiritual  nature  to  Truth,  193 

Reasons  for  Woman's  inferior  position,  and  infrequent  ap- 
pearance in  History,  -  195 

Illustrations  from  History  and  living  Women,        -  -         250 

Conclusion  of  Historic  Argument,        -  254 

CHAPTER    IV. 
Popular  Sentiment  and  Common  Observation. 

section    i  . 
Testimony  of  Man's  Sentiment  as  to  Woman's  Rank. 
Pre-existence  of  human  sentiment  to  all  forms  of  its  expression,  255 
Love  makes  every  man  an  Artist  during  its  reign  over  him. 

Through  it  he  sees  the  Ideal,       ....  257 
His  language  as  a  lover.    Illustrative  Extracts,     -  -        263 

Woman  naturally  the  ruler  or  Mistress,  in  love,         -  -  264 

Man's  love  is  Loyalty.     Woman's  Devotion.     Definition  and 

application  of  these  terms,  -  2G7 

What  men  require  and  need  from  Women  in  love  experiences,  269 
How  Woman  receives  the  homage  of  Man,  and  why  its  often 
extravagant  language  does  not  offend  her  inner  Con- 
sciousness, that  she  is  personally  unworthy  of  it,  -  271 
Absurdity  of  her  addressing  him  in  like  terms,  or  in  any  way 
expressing  feelings  of  the  same  character.  What  each 
expects  of  the  other,  .....  275 

Friendship  between  Men  and  Women.  Its  character  and 
influence  on  the  former.  Why  it  has  not  oftener  ex- 
isted and  been  more  freely  acknowledged.  All  minor 
forms  of  affection  bear  the  same  testimony  that  we  have 
seen  in  the  major.  Strength  of  this  correlative  testi- 
mony for  Woman,  •  -  -  -  -  2<9 


318 


CONTENTS. 


SECTION      II. 

PAt 

Sentiment   of  Women  toward    Women;  of  Woman  toward 
Women,  and  of  Both  toward  Woman. 

Difference  between  Women  and  Woman.     How  it  appears 

in  the  actual  life  of  both,  -  -  -  -284 

Some  reasons  why  \Vomen  do  not  rise  to  the  condition  of 
Woman.  The  worship  enjoined  upon  girls,  which  holds 
them  to  the  estate  of  Women,       -  287 

Doctor  Mayo's  View  of  American  Women.  Self-condemna- 
tion felt  by  those  who  remain  in  the  inferior  condition,  293 

Reverence  of  Woman  for  Womanhood;  her  perception  of  it, 
even  when  latent.  Her  exalted  character;  sympathy 
with  her  sex,  tenderness,  compassion,  and  eare  for  infe- 
rior and  erring  Women.  Her  value  of  identity  in  Con- 
sciousness and  Experience,  making  her  appreciative  of 
her  sex,  whatever  its  outward  condition,  -  -  29(5 

What  she  also  requires  in  Women,  ...         298 

How  Woman  inevitably  commands  acknowledgment  from 
both  sexes,  and  is  revered  by  them.  Effect  of  time  and 
distance  in  softening  criticism  upon  her  and  her  wrork, 
and  elevating  her  to  reverential  affection.  Mrs.  Grundy, 
who  would  be  offended  by  brave  work  in  a  Woman, 
her  neighbor  or  contemporary,  becomes  admiring  when 
it  is  removed  to  another  continent  or  generation,    -     ,    -  306 

What  Woman  has  done  for  herself  in  breaking  the  chains  of 
her  immemorial  slavery.  She  is  to  lead  her  own  Revo- 
lution, because  it  is  made  for  the  highest  life  on  the 
globe,  and  consequently  for  the  largest  Freedom  that 
any  mortal  being  can  exercise.  WToman  necessarily  a 
revolutionist,  the  moment  she  departs  in  any  worthy 
direction  from  the  old  subjugation,  -  -  -  310 


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